The Doctor and the Lord of Rings
by Anna Baggins
Summary: The Doctor and Clara just finished saving Gallifrey when a strange incident sends them somewhere totally new. Meanwhile, a small hobbit from the Shire is on a quest that may take his life.
1. Chapter 1: A Strange Incident

"Where are we going now?" Clara Oswin Oswald asked the Doctor as she entered the Tardis. Her face was lit up with a smile, a dimple showing in one cheek.

"Are you sure you're all rested from our big adventure last weekend?" he asked her with a sly grin on his face.

"What? Stopping the Time War and resolving a conflict between humans and Zygons?" Clara mock-shrugged. "No biggie."

The Doctor laughed out loud. "That's my Impossible Girl." He lifted up both hands in the air and Clara high-fived them.

Just as their hands met in the air, the Tardis door suddenly slammed shut. The Tardis began to move - well, move was a tame word. The reality was that machinery under their feet began to whir, the floor shook and tilted back and forth violently, and the usual Tardis noise almost sounded a little strangled. The Doctor and Clara both grabbed at the circular console as they fell backwards.

"I guess it's not up for us to decide!" the Doctor yelled, frantically trying to get his balance back.

"What do you mean, it's not for us to decide?" Clara shouted back over the loud Tardis noise. "Can't you control your own machine?"

"Hey, don't be rude to the Tardis!" the Doctor frowned. He stroked the console as he looked at it, lovingly. "She didn't mean it, old girl," he said in a lower voice, almost as if to himself.

"Whatever." Clara rolled her eyes. She and the Tardis had never got along, and she didn't think they ever would.

"Hold onto your hats!" the Doctor waved his fingers at her, and quickly put his hand back down as he almost lost balance again.

"Neither of us are wearing any hats!" Clara yelled back at him.

Before the Doctor had time to come up with a snarky response, something very strange happened. And when I say strange, I don't mean your type of strange. Clara had seen a LOT with the Doctor, and what happened then was utterly abnormal - even for a space-and-time-travelling Time Lord and companion.

Several things happened at once. The Tardis doors suddenly flew open at the same time that the Doctor lost his grip. He went flying towards the open door. Clara opened her mouth to scream, but then a great wind hit her in the mouth, taking her breath away. She felt dizzy as she suddenly felt her own grip loosening and herself flying backwards until she hit her head very hard and everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2: The Impossible Girl Again

OCC: I'm surprised I've already got one follower! Thank you for your support. :D Enjoy this next chapter!

When Clara woke up, she didn't. At least, it felt like waking up - but only to a dream. Images and stories flashed through her mind. In fact, it almost felt like the time that she had stepped into the time vortex. This time, however, she was not following the Doctor's timeline, but someone very different.

Two blue eyes and a mess of curly hair were seared into her memory. The stature of the person was like that of a young boy, but his face was older. In fact, all the people in that village were the size of mere children, many of them with faces of old men and women.

Clara marvelled at them. Who were these people? What planet was this? And why was it so important that she know this young man who had a gentler face than all the rest of his kind?

"Hobbits...Shire..."

The words echoed in her mind as the information zapped into her brain, making her knowledgeable of the history of these people in a brief moment when a second earlier, she had been totally in the dark. Images of these people flashed before her eyes to supplement the extra information, and, suddenly, she understand it all.

"You can stop now," she whispered to the vortex. "I understand. Please stop now. You're making my head hurt."

The images did stop flashing by, but now centered back onto the young-but-older hobbit, the one with the biggest blue eyes and the most beautiful smile she had ever seen.

"Frodo...Baggins..."

Words again sounded in her ears. The odd thing was, both times, she had distinctly heard the words, but there seemed to be no voice to them.

The images began to whirl again before her eyes. It gave her a headache, but she couldn't help watching.

A hobbit party. A huge birthday cake. An older hobbit who seemed to be very close to this Frodo. A speech by the older hobbit. Suddenly, he disappears, and Clara gasped along with the crowd. A whole muddling mess of events.

As the images whirled faster and faster, Clara began to feel faint. Her eyes started to droop closed as her mind tried to process too many things at once. However, just before she fell back into unconsciousness - if she had ever left it - a distinct female voice spoke out this time.

"Help."


	3. Chapter 3: A New World

The Doctor's head was aching as if he had hit it on something very hard. In fact, instead of bounding up like he usually would after such an incident, he decided to lay still for a little longer.

But then a voice spoke out, cutting into his thoughts centered on the pain at the back of his head. "Is he still alive?"

"Yes, he's alive," said a deeper voice. "But his attire is quite remarkable. And he has no weapons. It seems strange that someone would attack him and then leave him still alive, especially since orcs inhabit these parts."

The Doctor opened one eye. Two soldiers were looking over him. Their hair was long and they were dressed in armour that looked medieval.

"Hello?" the Doctor questioned, opening his other eye.

"He is awake, Eomer!" the younger soldier cried out, excitedly.

"Yes, I see that, Gathorn," the soldier called Eomer said sarcastically. "And who may you be, stranger?" he asked the Doctor, prodding him with a spear he held in his hand, but not too roughly.

The Doctor sat up. "I'm the Doctor. I was travelling with my friend Clara and then..." He rubbed his head. "I was in the Tardis. Then everything went dark and I woke up here. The doors flew open...that's strange. Where am I? No, don't tell me! Let me guess."

He rubbed his hands together delightedly before quickly standing up. There were many other soldiers, around thirty or so, standing behind Eomer and Gathorn, and they immediately pointed their spears at him as soon as he did so.

The Doctor raised his hands in there. "I'm a friend. I'm not going to hurt you! Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Destination. I'm going to guess...perhaps Scandinavia in the fourteenth century?" He looked questioningly at Eomer.

Eomer only looked confused. "I have never heard of this realm that you speak of - is it far south? You are standing in the realm of Rohan, under the rule of our King Theoden. But our King is not in his right mind, and he has banished his loyal men from his side." He nodded towards the soldiers standing behind him.

"Rohan?" the Doctor mused. "That's new..." The name sounded familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place it at the moment. Probably an after-effect of knocking his head, he decided.

"You say your King is not well, I hear," he repeated the information back at Eomer. "So what are you doing? Searching for some sort of medicine that will cure him?"

"It is not so easy as that...Doctor?" Eomer hesitated at the name. The Doctor nodded, so Eomer went on, although he looked curious about the name. "Our King's mind is poisoned by the wizard Saruman. There is nothing that we can do."

"Saruman...Saruman..." the Doctor said the name quietly to himself. "I've heard that name before..."

"I would be very surprised if you had not," Eomer put in. He looked curiously at the Doctor, as if he wished very much to ask who was this man whose garb was so outlandish, whose name was a mystery, and who knew so little of the only land that Eomer knew was in existence.

"Oh." The Doctor's eyes almost bulged out of his head. "Nooo. It can't be."

He looked at Eomer with those same surprised eyes as if to question the blond warrior if what he was thinking were really true.

He slapped his forehead with his hand. "How didn't I think of it before? But it's impossible! It simply can't be! Unless..."

The Doctor turned away from Eomer and gazed towards the distant hills.

"Unless Middle Earth is a real place..."


	4. Chapter 4: Help

OCC: I'm on a roll, so here is the second chapter of today! I'm sorry it's not very good...but I would dearly love to have your feedback!

_Help...help...help..._

The words echoed in Clara's ears as she gasped awake...for real this time.

She was sitting in the Tardis. At least...she believed it was the Tardis. Clara had never seen this room before. It was designed somewhat like her parent's bedroom had been - queen-sized bed, two dressers, an opening leading towards a bathroom...

There was something on top of one of the dressers. Clara got up and walked towards the particular dresser to the right of the bed.

It was a picture in a gold frame with Gallifrean writing to decorate it. The picture was of a young couple smiling at the camera, hips up. The young woman had fiery red hair, a creamy complexion, and a twinkle in her eyes. The young man had a large nose, lighter ginger hair, and seemed a little goofy.

Without even thinking about it, Clara turned the picture over and slid it out of the frame.

_Amy and Rory_ was written on the back.

_The friends whose loss made the Doctor vow to never engage in human affairs again_, she remembered. The thought sent a chill down her spine, and she quickly slid the photograph back into place, setting the frame back on the dresser.

Clara quickly turned away. But not before the image of a dark-haired curly hobbit flashed into her vision and out again, blinding her before she could study it.

She sank onto the bed, holding her head. It hurt. And something felt heavy around her neck. She clutched a hand towards her chest, realizing that there was nothing there. Nothing there. But she felt it. What was it?

_The Ring. The terrible burden._

Clara sprang up, a sense of urgency upon her.

_Help._

She began rushing through rooms. Into the library. Into the swimming pool, and out again when she saw that no one was there. A dark room that she dared not enter for a feeling of doom in it. A kitchen.

"But I have no idea where I'm going," she told herself aloud.

_Frodo._

_Baggins._

_Help._

As she rushed into the second control room that she had come across, her feet came across a slippery surface. They began to slide under her. She felt herself falling towards the floor. Her eyes began to close once more.

The funny thing was, it didn't hurt when her head came into contact with the floor. In fact, it felt as if she were falling onto soft grass.

But then the images started flashing through her mind again.

"No, please don't," Clara mumbled.

_Help._


	5. Chapter 5: Doctor of the Rohirrim

I'M BACK PEOPLES! To tell the truth, I actually had forgotten all about my Fanfiction account. But it always seems as soon as I have the most work to do, I start looking for something to do on the Internet. And then I found my account, and realized about this story... and, well, here I am! I look forward to getting back to fanfiction writing. :)

The next thing he knew, the Doctor was riding with these soldiers who called themselves Rohirrim. It had all happened so fast. Once Eomer understood that the Doctor was confused (obviously he was, for how could one suddenly wake up in a new land?), he told the Doctor kindly that he would take him on as one of his men until they found someone who could heal his mind. The Doctor, knowing resistance was futile, agreed.

So here he was now, still in his same old suit, being jolted up and down and desperately trying not to fall off.

"Weakling," he heard one of Eomer's men whisper to his friend by him. The other man nodded emphatically and sniggered.

The Doctor ignored the snide comments and rude looks Eomer's men gave him. He would deal with this later - right now, he had other things to worry about. The top of his list was not falling off his horse and looking like an even bigger fool than he did already. Once he started to fall into the rhythm of the horse, he galloped ahead to Eomer's side.

"So... uhh... where exactly are we going?" the Doctor asked the blond man.

"We ride to Fangorn Forest, chasing a band of orcs. We will rid this land of these foul beasts, slowly but surely," Eomer replied, with a disdainful look at the land ahead of them, an excited sneer curling his lip.

"You... do know what orcs are, don't you?" he added suddenly, remembering the Doctor's 'amnesia'.

"Oh, yes," the Doctor nodded emphatically. "It's all coming back to me now! Well, some of it. Well, a little bit. I'm sure I should remember it all soon."

Hopefully, he could remember this story. At the moment, his mind was still trying to get over the surprise that there was indeed such a place as Middle Earth. Oh, and the Tardis. And Clara. Where were they? He was worried about her... about both of them.

"Do you remember where you came from... Doctor?" Eomer asked him, breaking into this thoughts.

The Doctor shook his head. "It might have been... Gondor. An outlying village close to Minas Tirith... maybe?" He was shooting out names, and he hoped Eomer wasn't seeing through his lies.

Eomer raised his eyebrows. "I do not recall anyone from Gondor ever wearing clothes like yours, Doctor. They are much too fine for a villager, but very strange for a nobleman to wear."

The Doctor shrugged. "Well, hopefully I'll figure it out soon."


	6. Chapter 6: An Unexpected Meeting

Clara woke up with the feeling of someone kicking her in the leg. Not hard enough to get a moan out of her, but enough to jolt her awake.

"Oh, I'm sorry... I didn't see you there."

Clara opened her eyes... and couldn't believe what they saw.

_So it was true._

The curly, brown-haired young man with blue eyes stood over her.

_Frodo Baggins._

Clara hadn't put the Frodo of her dreams and the Frodo of the books together in her mind until now. She had never told the Doctor, but before him, there were two characters in her life that came from the books her mother left her: Robin Hood... and Frodo Baggins. Robin had always been her favourite, but she had to admit that Frodo was handsome. _Quite _handsome, with a youthful vibrance to his face, his blue eyes twinkling as he looked at her.

That was when she realized that she wasn't in the Tardis anymore. She was lying under an apple tree, a book lying over her chest. The book's binding was the same shade of blue as the Tardis.

She was in the Shire... with the person her dreams had told her to save.

Clara all thought this within the span of a few seconds, and now she replied to Frodo Baggins... _was she really speaking to the real Frodo Baggins? How could he even exist?! _She had seen a lot of things that could be called crazy during her time with the Doctor, including herself being duplicated across time and space. But this was a whole new level of crazy... a good kind of crazy, though.

"No, that's okay. I've probably slept for too long, anyway," she said quickly. During her time with the Doctor, she had gotten quite good at making things up and blending into the environment.

"Well, then, may I help you up?" Frodo held a hand out to her and she willingly took it. Standing on her own two feet again, Clara realized that she had been shrunk to the size of the average hobbit, even half a head shorter than Frodo.

"Thanks," she told him, smiling and showing dimples.

"I don't remember seeing you around here before," Frodo said, smiling back at her. "Are you coming for the Party tonight?"

"Yeah, I am. It's to celebrate your cousin's and your birthday, right? I'm a..."

Clara paused, wracking her brain for a good lie.

"... a friend of Pippin's."

"Ah," Frodo grinned. "Yeah, Pip never does let us know who exactly is coming."

He looked at the sky. "Oh, I'm sorry - but I'm late. I have to go meet a friend of the family. But it was nice meeting you...?"

"I'm Clara," she said.

"It was nice meeting you, Clara," Frodo repeated. "I hope to see you at the party tonight."

As Frodo ran off, Clara felt something rising in her heart. She didn't know quite what the feeling was, but she did know what all she was thinking of was, _I wouldn't miss it for the world, Frodo Baggins. I will be there._


	7. Chapter 7: My TARDIS

Hey guys! I'm just on the brink of exams now, but I hope to be posting more frequently starting next Tuesday when I finish! Thanks for reading and I'd be happy to hear what you think. Have any requests for something to happen in this fanfiction or have any questions? Those are great, too. :)

~ D/L ~

"There's something ahead, sire!" One of the youths who had ridden ahead to scour out the land before them had excitement in his voice as he addressed Eomer.

"Orcs?" Eomer asked, with a hopeful edge to his voice.

The Doctor rolled his eyes... in his mind. He didn't want to make this man with weapons angry at him, but for an ordinary human being, he sure was excited about killing an enemy.

"No, sire... it looks like a blue object lying on the ground. Abandoned. It could be a trick of the foul creatures, my lord."

"My TARDIS!" the Doctor shouted, exuberantly... and suddenly stopped, realizing that he had slipped up.

Eomer raised his eyebrow - yes, one singular eyebrow. The left one, to be precise.

"Are you remembering something important... Doctor?"

"Uhh...yes. I'll, um, explain when we get there."

That would give him enough time to think up a good lie. Though, to be honest, he wasn't good at lying. At least, this regeneration wasn't. And he could tell that Eomer was pretty good at reading people. So maybe he should tell the truth... or some version of it. Eomer would really think he was a mad man now... not that that description wasn't entirely true. He sometimes wondered about himself, to tell the truth.

Now that he was remembering everything a little better, suddenly... _Clara_! The Doctor quickly packed his panic back down into his brain so that Eomer couldn't see what he was thinking. He hoped she was okay... had she been booted out of the Tardis, too? She could be anywhere in the universe, then. For now, the Doctor just ruefully shook his head (in his mind) and promised himself that he'd deal with Clara later. One problem at a time.

It only took a two minute's ride to reach the TARDIS - lying on its side, steam rising from it. The TARDIS looked a little battered, too. The door was shut, thankfully - at least no one was able to get inside.

The Doctor hopped off his horse as soon as it slowed down enough for him to be able to do so. Or, rather, he ungracefully slid off, one foot getting caught in the stirrup. A couple of Eomer's men sniggered, but a stern look from their lord quickly shut them up.

"Oh, poor baby... what happened to you?" the Doctor asked his blue box in a soft tone, stroking a hand over its wood lovingly.

"Will you now care to explain what this... TARDIS is?" Eomer asked.

He was now standing next to the Doctor, his eyes narrowed as he studied the blue box, as if trying to understand what this puzzle in front of him was. He tilted his head to the side to read the sign.

"Police box? What is that? And it also says 'free for use of public' - and yet you claim that this box is in your possession only."

The Doctor looked at Eomer for a moment... and then sighed. "If I tell you the truth will you promise not to laugh?"

Eomer raised an eyebrow again - the right one this time. _How did this man do it? _the Doctor wondered, slightly amused, before coming back to the issue of the present.

"Why would I laugh? I do not see anything that amuses me."

"Well, then, promise not to call me crazy, then," the Doctor said, grinning a little.

Eomer raised his left eyebrow to meet his right one.

The Doctor sighed and gave the information in a muddled rush: "Okay, this is going to sound crazy, but this is just how the outside looks like. She's not actually a police box - which a telephone box that they use in the future, by the way - yes, I come from the future... she's my TARDIS, Time and Relative Dimension in Space. The TARDIS is a machine that can fly anywhere in time and space. And, yes, she's mine."

The Doctor finished his speech to find Eomer and all his men staring at him with blank looks on their faces. Before any of the men could snicker again, the Doctor continued.

"If you men put her back right side up, I'll show you."

Eomer coughed. "Well, then, do what the man says."

A couple of Eomer's men got off their horses and hurried to do their master's bidding. It took them only a moment for the strong, muscular youths to right the TARDIS. Meanwhile, the Doctor hadn't been idle, pulling out his TARDIS key from his pocket. Thank goodness it hadn't flown out when he was ungracefully booted out of his own machine... perhaps Clara was inside?

"Well, boys, get ready for the surprise of your life," he commented as he slid the key into the lock.

As he pushed open the door, several of Eomer's men gasped. When the Doctor turned around, the ones who weren't gasping had their mouths open or had a different look of disbelief and shock on his face.

The Doctor grinned. "Walk in one at a time when you enter the TARDIS for your tour, please," he said, in his best tour guide voice.

He had to admit, he was going to enjoy this... was enjoying it already.


	8. Chapter 8: Party Preparation

I went on a writing spree last night, so I'll have a chapter per day for a little while.

~ D / L ~

Clara decided to take the dirt path that led in the opposite direction Frodo had gone. Probably the village... town... _Hobbiton _led that way, yeah? She was still trying to think what to do about her story she had told Frodo. She had until tonight to make her story foolproof, and that meant making sure she blended in. She also needed to find Pippin and get him to agree to go along with her lies.

As she rounded a bend, a young couple walked towards her. No, they weren't a couple. They were laughing and talking, but they had enough distance between them for Clara to guess they were just friends. _Or slowly moving to the next level_, she thought with a slight chuckle to herself.

"Pippin, you are such a tease!" the girl's voice floated towards her.

_Well, speak of the devil._

Clara set her jaw in a determined line as she strode towards the young man and woman. She had only one shot at this, and it had to work.

She gave a little wave, and the young man's eyebrows lifted, but he cheerily lifted a hand in greeting.

"You're Pippin, right?" Clara asked as she got close enough.

The hobbit nodded and grinned at her. "But I don't know who you are."

"My name's Clara," Clara said as smoothly as she could. "Listen, I've got a little problem. I told your cousin... Frodo... that you invited me to the party. I didn't know how else to get in. What can I say - I love parties?" she gave a casual little shrug.

"A party girl!" Pippin's face lit up even more. "Oh, I can tell that I'm going to like you. Yeah, sure, I'll go along with it. I'll make a really good story, too... it's one of my many talents."

"Oh, shut up, Pippin," the young girl giggled and punched him in the shoulder. She smiled at Clara. "I'm Diamond, by the way."

"Nice to meet you," Clara returned Diamond's warm smile. She felt like she was liking these two hobbits already.

"Though I do have another problem... I'm not really from around here. I had a friend who brought me here, but he... well, we kind of got separated and I don't have any of my things with me. He was... also my invite to the party, but I knew he didn't want to come, so I can't trust him to show up and give me the invitation to show that I was really invited," she added, her mind working quickly to make her story better.

"Oh, you poor dear!" Diamond reached out a hand to squeeze hers comfortingly. "Don't worry - I brought plenty of dresses along with me, and I think I'm about your size. C'mon, Pippin and I were just going to the house where I'm staying with some family friends until the Party's over, anyway."

"Thank you!" Clara exclaimed, a little surprised that everything was going so smoothly so ready.

She grinned to herself. _I wasn't your size yesterday._

~ D / L ~

Once they reached Diamond's room, Diamond let Clara in first and then shut the door in Pippin's face, gently but laughingly.

"Okay, let's see what I've got..."

Crossing the room, she opened an ornately fashioned wardrobe and began pulling out dresses, handing them to Clara. _A frilly purple dress, a very long blue dress, a small white dress, a black dress with half sleeves... _Clara counted fifteen dresses in total.

"Wow, you certainly packed to be prepared for any situation," Clara commented as Diamond took the dresses from her and laid them on the bed.

"Yeah, well, I always think it's best to be prepared, y'know?" Diamond grinned at her. "Let's see... what would look best on you?"

An hour later, Pippin was banging down the door, complaining _why do girls take forrrrrrrever to change_. Diamond opened the door and peeked out.

"Okay, we're coming, but no peeking until we're both out."

"Fine," Pippin muttered, but shut his eyes and backed away from the door a little.

"Okay, open!" Diamond commanded.

The young hobbit woman was wearing a long purple overall-like dress that reached her ankles with a white flowery blouse on underneath.

However, Pippin's eyes widened when he looked at Clara. She wore a red dress in hobbit peasant style fashion, but the dress, while still modest, had flat sleeves instead of puffy, the neckline showed off just a little more, and it showed off all her curves in the right places.

"Oh, shut up, unless you're going to compliment me on my handiwork."

To Clara's surprise, Diamond didn't appear annoyed that Pippin was looking at Clara rather than herself - and from the discussion the two girls had been having, Clara could tell that Diamond did indeed fancy Pippin.

Pippin grinned a little sheepishly and cleared his throat. "You look great, too, Diamond," he said, blushing a little as he looked at her.

He offered an arm to each of them. "Now may I escort these two lovely ladies to the Party before we're late?"


	9. Chapter 9: Eomer Flies the TARDIS

Eomer gazed around him in awe. This was indeed a wondrous machine, this... what did the Doctor call it? Ah, yes - the TARDIS. Time and something or other.

His eyes narrowed as his mind worked and he turned around, seeing the Doctor with his arms folded, his face all a-beaming.

This couldn't be real... it must be witchcraft! Yes, that must be it... and who was this... this _Doctor _anyway? Look at him there, standing and watching, grinning like a mad man!

Before the Doctor could even let out a protest, Eomer had him pinned against the machinery in the middle... what the Doctor had called the TARDIS console.

"What is this witchcraft?" he yelled at the Doctor. "Who are you? Are you a servant of Saruman? Or are you Saruman himself? And what is this... this... TARDIS?"

To his surprise, the Doctor eyed him calmly after his initial protestation. "I already told you. And I told you the truth, Eomer. The simple and honest truth."

Eomer stared at him very hard a moment, his eyes narrowed. He was a good judge at whether someone was lying, and he had to admit to himself, this strange man was telling the truth. His eyes un-narrowed slowly, and he finally stepped away.

"Fine, I believe you... but I want you to prove it."

The Doctor jumped up right away as if he had been offered a marvellous gift. "Yeah, sure, that's easy!"

He hurried over to the other side of the console. "Taking you to the future would probably be a bad idea because the people would see you wearing armour and would be frightened out of their lives. How about I take you to a different place in this.. Middle Earth of yours? And I'll change the time a little bit, too."

Eomer shrugged. That was fine by him. Then his eyes narrowed because the Doctor was staring at him. "What?" he snapped.

"Wouldn't you like to know how to fly the TARDIS?" the Doctor asked him, his eyes beaming with excitement.

"I... I guess," Eomer replied against his better judgement. However, secretly, he felt a small tinge of excitement when his hands touched the console and felt the whirring of machinery under the surface.

"Okay, you keep your hand on that half of a glass ball sticking out of the console - that will keep us balanced," the Doctor explained, his hands flying across other devices on the console. "I'm just setting our location, and then I'll deal with the rest - everyone else, hang onto something because it isn't always a smooth ride!"

With that, the Doctor pulled down a lever and a rough whooshing noise suddenly started up as some piston in the glass cylindric tube sticking out of the middle of the console began to move up and down. Eomer suddenly felt the ground moving beneath his feet and stumbled forward, but the Doctor grabbed him by the arm and held him steady. When Eomer turned his head to see who had such a firm grasp on him, he saw the Doctor beaming at him.

"You're always a bit unsteady on your first time!" the Doctor said over the sound of the whooshing. "It gets easier with time."

Suddenly, the whooshing and movement stopped.

"We're here - wherever here is," the Doctor announced. "And, by the way, great work, Eomer. When I fly the TARDIS alone, my balance is all over the place, but you held us so that there was hardly any movement for us on the inside at all!"

Eomer forgot to look sophisticated and raised both eyebrows instead of only one. "That was only a small magnitude of motion?" he asked wryly.

He felt pleased at the Doctor's praise, however... just a little. He would admit that much to himself.

The Doctor was already bounding towards the TARDIS door. "Let's see where we landed, shall we?"

He threw upon the doors... and Eomer's eyes opened wide.

Outside, lay green farmland and hills. A wagon suddenly flew past, with a few children running after it. And then a middle-aged farmer strolling after them. At least, Eomer thought he was middle-aged. But his stature was that of a child!

"Halflings!" Gathorn gasped right beside him. "But... but... they don't exist! They are only in tales of long ago that we tell our children as bedtime stories!"

The Doctor patted Gathorn on the arm. "Trust me, yesterday I didn't Middle Earth even existed."

Gathorn started to move towards the door, but Eomer yanked him back. "You'll frighten them, Gathorn you idiot, what with you being so much bigger than they are and all in armour!"

Gathorn muttered an apology, and the Doctor agreed that it was probably best that they stay in the TARDIS. Eomer, meanwhile, was surprised at himself. Who knew he could have a soft spot in his heart for these figments of imagination... rather, these real people so much smaller than he was? They were so weak... which made him feel as if all his fighting against the Enemy was worth it. These little people obviously hadn't been touched by any being of Mordor. And he wanted to keep it that way.

The Doctor started beside him as a young hobbit lad with a girl on each arm walked past. "Clara!" he croaked, and then, clearing his throat, yelled, "Clara!"

One of the girls, a lass with light brown hair, turned her head, and then shook it bemusedly.

The Doctor wrinkled his forehead. "I was so sure one of those girls was Clara," he said, almost to himself.

"Who is Clara?" Eomer asked him. "And why would she be here in this land of Halflings?"

"Clara is my companion. She travels with me in the TARDIS. This morning, we had a sort of... well, accident. The doors flew open, which wasn't supposed to happen. I landed in your land of Rohan, and the TARDIS crash-landed not very far away. I don't know what happened to Clara - but then, how could she shrink to the size of a hobbit? I was probably just seeing things..." He shook his head sadly and turned away.

"Doctor," Eomer laid a hand on the man's shoulder, feeling pity arise in his heart. "You showed us your wondrous machine, your... TARDIS. Let me and my men repay you by helping you find your friend."

It wasn't like the orcs in Rohan were going anywhere.

The Doctor's face lit up. "Really? You would help me find Clara?"

Eomer nodded. "Right men?" he asked, a little more loudly.

His men started to attention, some of them with such confused looks on their faces that Eomer knew they hadn't been paying attention. No matter. They would follow orders.

"We will do whatever my lord commands," Gathorn stated.

"Well, then... let's get started. Where should we look first?" Eomer asked the Doctor, who was beginning to feel like a comrade to him even though he had only known this strange man for a few hours.

"I was thinking we would search the TARDIS," the Doctor stated. "It's a good thing you've got a lot of men because my old girl is much bigger on the inside than you could even imagine."


	10. Chapter 10: Clara at the Party

As Pippin led her and Diamond up to the gate at Bag End (on which hung a sign that said _No Admission Except on Party Business_, which made Clara grin), Clara could hear music playing. Not the kind of thing which usually played at the parties she had attended in England (which she hated, to be honest), but light, cheery music that made her want to dance.

"Now we just need to find my dear cousins and then we're free to do whatever we want," Pippin said, breaking into Clara's thoughts. "Bilbo always likes to greet the guests as they come in.

Even just as he finished speaking, Clara saw Frodo and another hobbit with greying hair and a fancy red jacket with green trimmings, who she guessed was Bilbo. Frodo was looking quite dapper himself, a green-and-red swirly patterned vest over a white shirt, even though his hair still wild and curly.

Frodo grinned. "Hey, Pip! I was wondering when you'd show up. And Diamond, too - great to see you again."

He stopped talking when he saw Clara, but his smile became a little broader and it spread to his eyes, making them twinkle. "Clara - you came."

Clara watched his smile became softer and happier, and she blushed in spite of herself. Seeing him again, her eyes took in his facial features and stature, comparing them to the movie Frodo. This Frodo had a little more weight to him, but it was a healthy weight, and honestly, he was the thinnest hobbit she had seen so far. She also had to admit to herself that while the real Frodo looked quite similar to the movie Frodo, Elijah Wood had nothing on the real Frodo Baggins.

She reminded herself to respond just in time before the pause got awkward. "Yeah, I made it. Just needed to find Pippin... I'm glad I could come."

"Won't you introduce me to your friend, Frodo?" the older hobbit asked, nudging Frodo with his elbow and chuckling a little to himself when he saw the look on Frodo's face, which only made Clara feel like her cheeks were getting warmer.

"Oh, sorry, Bilbo - I forgot you hadn't met my new friend yet," Frodo said, a little too hurriedly. "This is Clara, a friend of Pippin's. I just met her on my way when I was going to meet Gandalf as he came into Hobbiton."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Clara," Bilbo said warmly, taking her hand and shaking it firmly but not too hard. With his other hand, he picked a small package from a stack of gifts on a table. "I think this is for you - I was saving it for some special lady." He winked at her.

"Oh, you don't have to..." Clara protested.

Pippin nudged her in the ribs, cutting her off. "We always give presents to people on our own birthdays... remember?" he hissed into her ear. His tone was still friendly, but it had an inquisitive edge to it.

Clara clamped her mouth shut and smiled awkwardly, taking the package from Bilbo.

"Thank you so much," she said.

She followed Pippin and Diamond, who were walking arm and arm towards a big table loaded with food where already many hobbits were gathered, standing, but with some food in their hands. Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder and saw Frodo beside her.

"I have to greet more guests, but I'll see you later. Will you save a dance for me?" he asked her, his grin looking just a little shy.

Clara felt the corners of her mouth tug up in a stupid grin. "Yeah, I'd like that very much."

Frodo Baggins nodded and hurried back where Bilbo was meeting a big hobbit woman with two babies in her arms and a few small hobbit children hanging onto her dress, looking excited. Clara folded her arms over her chest. The night was warm, but she was feeling little excited shy goose bumps all over her arms. Diamond and Pippin were standing by the table, talking, and she didn't want to interrupt them. But she was fine with wandering... and thinking.

After walking past the table to where a hobbit band was playing merry music, Clara stopped to listen for a couple of minutes. Several hobbit youths stood or sat on the grass, clapping their hands in time with the music.

Once she had had enough of that, Clara strolled a little farther to where a few children were stripping wrapping paper from gifts. One little boy pulled out a beautifully-shaped horn that looked quite expensive and shouted gleefully. The boy put the horn to his lips and blew. A single note poured out, silvery and clear and true. Clara raised her eyebrows, impressed. Just how much did Bilbo spend on all these presents?

She remembered her own gift and looked at it a moment, wondering what would be inside. Clara carefully untied the red ribbon and after gazing at it, put it in her pocket for later. She slowly undid the wrappings, trying to tear them as little as possible. Inside the paper was a small cardboard box. Taking off the lid, Clara gasped.

Inside, was a beautiful necklace of precious green stones - emeralds, Clara guessed, but she wasn't sure whether this Middle Earth had emeralds or not. Whatever it was, the necklace was priceless... much more than Clara or anyone she knew could ever afford back home. Touching one stone with a gentle finger, she quickly closed the lid and slid the box into the little red drawstring purse Diamond had lent her. This necklace was for a party with the Queen of England, not here.

She suddenly felt hungry and decided to wander back to the table. Several hobbit attendants were whisking away empty food platters while others brought in new full ones. Clara grabbed a plate and loaded it with cold cuts, cheeses, different breads, and fruit.

"Better not take too much - ye'll wan' to save room fer the beeg dinner," a light female voice said beside her.

Clara turned to see a cheerful-looking ginger hobbit girl standing beside her. She was wearing the traditional hobbit peasant costume, but with her posture and easy grace, she made the clothes look like they were fit for a queen.

"I'm Rosie Cotton," she introduced herself, sticking out one hand in greeting, the other balancing a plate with one fifth of the food Clara had on hers.

"Oh, I didn't know - I'm not from around here," Clara said, slightly apologetically, although she didn't quite know for what. _Sorry I don't know your customs? Sorry I'm so awkward? Sorry I'm here? _

"I'm Clara," she added, giving a dimpled smile as she shook Rosie's hand in greeting.

"Over from Bree, are ye? We almos' nivver get hobbits from over there. Strange people are those Bree hobbits... I mean they usually are, beggin' yer pardon," Rosie apologized, blushing a little.

"Oh, no, that's alright," Clara quickly waved it off. "Us hobbits in Bree... we usually think of you Shire hobbits as strange. So far at this party, those assumptions have been completely proven false."

Rosie's wide smile returned. "I'm glad ye think so. Nice party, eh?" she commented, popping a small cube of cheese into her mouth.

Clara nodded. Rosie had some rough edges that showed she was brought up in a commoner's family (that's what travelling with the Doctor did - made you more observant), but her manners were excellent and she was very friendly, even more so than Diamond, and that was saying a lot.

"I'm really enjoying it, yeah. Yourself?"

"It's great! I haven' been to a party in a long while. Too much work at the inn, I surpose." Rosie suddenly cocked her head. "Oh, sorry... I hear me dad callin'. It was nic' talkin' to ye. See ye later, I hope." She waved and dashed off, still balancing the plate on her hand like an expert.

Clara lifted a hand in greeting and stared down at her plate. She laughed to herself.

"Travelling in the TARDIS is hungry work," she said aloud. "I think I'll be just fine, Rosie."


	11. Chapter 11: The Comatose Clara

The Doctor quickly split Eomer's two dozen men into three groups - one group of twelve men to stay in the console room just in case Clara were to show up (though Eomer decided that the Doctor probably didn't want too many men going through the TARDIS' corridors and getting lost or in the way) and two groups of four men to go down two of the three doorways leading out of the console room. The Doctor, Eomer, and Gathorn went down the middle way.

Gathorn kept asking questions all the time, more popping up each time the Doctor answered. How did the Doctor get this wondrous machine? How do TARDISes grow? Where was this planet that the Doctor came from? What are Time Lords? Eomer was surprised that the Doctor answered the man's questions each time without the appearance of growing weary. He would have chided his right-hand man for inquisitive impertness, but he didn't really want to say anything unless the Doctor became annoyed.

Eomer himself was content to stay silent, turning his head left and right to examine everything. The TARDIS fascinated him... how the walls seemed to glow over so slightly and when he put a hand to them, it felt as if he were touching something alive. How the corridors twisted and turned every which way, but the Doctor never lost track, just determinedly took one path as if he knew exactly where he was going. But how could he?

They passed rooms and Eomer took quick glances in every one. He counted five bedrooms, three bathrooms, and eight living rooms. An art gallery. A room with clothes hanging on neat hooks _everywhere_ \- from ceiling to floor. A room with a huge telescope. A library with a _swimming pool_? A room with a closed door that had only bright orange light showing through the window.. the light made Eomer turn his head away with a sense of dread. Another library. A room with dozens and dozens of bright lamps hanging from the ceiling, which, when Gathorn asked, the Doctor explained was the Architectural Reconfiguration System. Three kitchens. And a room full of boxes.

"Why are there so many rooms, Doctor?" Eomer came out of his thoughts to hear Gathorn say.

"I don't really know," the Doctor admitted. "That's more a question to ask the TARDIS - if she had her voice again. The TARDIS creates and erases and recreates rooms all the time. I can delete rooms when there's an emergency that requires more free space in the TARDIS, but usually, I just leave that up to her. She'll often read the minds of the people who board her and create rooms just for them. For example, whenever I have a new travelling companion - like when Clara started - the TARDIS creates a bedroom for them. Unfortunately, when it came to Clara, the TARDIS took a dislike to her at the beginning. It took a lot of urging from me for her to make a room for Clara. And even after that, Clara often complained that the TARDIS kept hiding her room from her - the TARDIS can change the location of rooms, too, you know. It isn't until recently that the TARDIS finally accepted Clara."

"You said 'whenever you have a new travelling companion' - what happens to your old companions, Doctor?" Gathorn asked.

The Doctor was silent for a moment, and although he strode along at the same pace, Eomer knew that Gathorn had overstepped the line this time. He was just opening this mouth to tell Gathorn that it wasn't any of their business when the Doctor spoke.

"They leave. Sometimes, there's something out there more important. Or they find someone else. A few of them have died - it's not always a safe vacation travelling with me. And sometimes - sometimes they forget me."

They strode in silence for a while, Gathorn realizing his mistake. Finally, Eomer spoke up.

"I'm sorry, Doctor."

"Me, too," the Doctor said.

Suddenly, a small, muffled beeping sound broke the stillness. The Doctor dived his hand into his right trouser pocket and fished around, finally drawing out a thin, metal stick-like device with a green light flashing on the end.

"I think the sonic's found Clara!" the Doctor exclaimed excitedly, his former enthusiasm returning quickly.

"The sonic? What is the sonic?" Eomer asked. "And how do you know?"

"Sonic screwdriver... don't know why it's called that as it actually doesn't work on wood. But it does pretty much anything else. And I'm pretty sure it's found Clara because it's telling me that there's another human nearby - one human being, and it's not one of your men."

The Doctor broke into a run and Eomer had to work hard to catch up to him because he hadn't expected the quick change of movement.

Rounding a corner, the Doctor shouted, "Clara!"

Following him, Eomer saw the Doctor kneeling at the side of a pretty brunette girl lying on her stomach on the ground, her face turned towards them, eyes closed. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

The Doctor quickly turned Clara over and leaned down to put his ear to her chest.

"She's alive," he announced, a little too casually, making Eomer wonder just how many times the Doctor and his companions had almost died.

He then proceeded to hold down the button of his sonic screwdriver, making it buzz as he waved the device up and down Clara's body.

"She appears to be in a coma - a deep sleep."

The Doctor's eyebrows furrowed, and he looked worried for the first time.

"What can we do?" Eomer asked gently, not wanting to bother the Doctor anymore than he already was.

"Take her somewhere more comfortable, for starters. After that - I'm not sure what to do."

The Doctor was looking more and more troubled by the second.

Eomer carefully scooped Clara up into his arms and stood up. "Alright, Doctor - you lead the way."

The Doctor nodded and hurriedly led the way back the way they had come, glancing over his shoulder every now and again to make sure Clara was safe in Eomer's arms. Each time, Eomer nodded and tried to look confident.

After two lefts and three rights, the Doctor opened the third door on a long corridor, revealing a room with soft purple wallpaper and a bed with a flowered covering. Eomer laid Clara gently on the bed and then stepped back to let the Doctor, who was pulling nervously at his fingers, have a look at her.

The Doctor knelt down by the side of the bed. He smoothed a strand of hair away from Clara's face, and from the way he was looking at her, Eomer knew that his man cared a great deal for his travelling companion. Not the kind of love that he imagined between his mother and father and hoped to find some day, but the kind of love he felt for his own sister, Eowyn.

_Eowyn_. He wondered how she was doing right now. He should be there to make sure that foul Grima Wormtongue did not ravish her.

But Eomer reminded himself that there was nothing he could do about that now. First, he had to help the Doctor, and then maybe afterwards, the Doctor could help him. This man with such a wondrous box must have something that could help Rohan against their enemies.

He wracked his brain, trying to think of something that could help heal Clara. Something... or someone.

_Oh._

_OH._

No... no, not... _her_. Even if she even existed, he had heard such horrible tales of her as a child that it could make one's blood run cold. But he couldn't think of anything... or anyone else.

Eomer cleared his throat nervously. "Umm... Doctor? I may know of someone that would be able to help us."

The Doctor turned, a look so grateful and hopeful that Eomer felt that he could even walk into the presence of _her _to be able to help his new friend.

"Who, Eomer?"

"Well, I'm not even sure if she even exists. But I have heard many tales of a female sorceress of the elves, who is named Galadriel."


	12. Chapter 12: Yes

Note from author: Thank you for all your feedback! I really appreciate it. This chapter is when things start rolling on Clara's end of things. ;)

~ D / L ~

Clara ate her snacks quickly. She probably looked like a greedy hobbit, but she was already hobbit-sized, so she might as well take advantage of the fact. With all the dancing and walking, she wasn't likely to gain weight, anyhow.

After eating, she strolled back to where the music was playing. There wasn't really anything else to do because she didn't know anyone around her. A few kindly hobbits had given her broad smiles or waved a hand in her direction, but they didn't approach her. Feeling a little tired of standing, she sat down on one of the many benches and watched the little hobbit children dance, a smile on her face.

"How's the party going?"

Clara turned to see Pippin slip onto the bench beside her, a beer mug in his hands. She gave him a greeting smile and slide over a little to give him more room.

"It's great. Not much going on besides the music and the snacks, though."

"Just wait until the dancing starts. And there's the big dinner, too. You're my guest so you'll be sitting with us in the Big Tent just for family and special friends. Uncle Bilbo's one hundred forty four guests will be ruined, but we won't tell them." His eyes twinkled at her.

Clara laughed. "And how soon does that begin?"

"Very soon. I checked by the gate and Frodo and Bilbo were packing up, so they'll be heading over to this way pretty quick. By the way..."

His voice lowered into a more confidential tone. "But what was that about you not knowing about the gifts? It's a tradition among all hobbits extending from the early days. And don't say you're from Bree because I've gone there once or twice, and they have the same tradition."

Clara sighed. "Fine... you got me. But if I told you, you would never believe me."

"Try me," Pippin said, seriously.

She bit her lip, looked down, and then up again, trying to think the best way to say this. "Umm... well. I actually come from a different world than this. I travel with a friend... the one I told you about. I think we crash landed and I woke up here. I'm sort of stranded at the moment."

"What different world?"

Clara looked at him in astonishment. "You believe me?"

"From anyone else, I wouldn't," Pippin shrugged and lifted the beer mug to his lips. He took a gulp and then wiped his lips before continuing. "But you have an honest face. All your actions have showed that you clearly have no idea what you're doing, but I don't think your making it up for some kind of evil reason. If you did have some horrible reason, I'm sure you'd have much better backup plans. And, anyway, what evil thing even exists out there that would come into the Shire? Orcs?" He slapped his leg and laughed loudly, as if he had made a good joke.

"Orcs do exist, you know," Clara told him, seriously.

Pippin stopped laughing. "What?"

"Well, I haven't actually seen them myself," she admitted. "But in the world where I live, we have some books with stories of the Shire. History books, I guess you could call them." What else could they be since the Shire actually did exist? Suddenly, she wondered where Tolkien had really got the so-called inspiration for his books.

"And in those books... there's orcs. And creatures a lot worse than orcs."

"Stories," Pippin insisted, but he almost looked a little frightened.

"Are they?" Clara asked him. "Then why do those books mention you and Frodo and Sam Gamgee and your cousin Merry Brandybuck?"

Pippin stared at her. "Okay, either you're some kind of magician or you're actually telling the truth because Merry isn't even here. He's at home with a head cold."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you," Clara exclaimed. "I'm telling the truth, and those books tell stories about all of you and horrible things happen and I am really scared. Really scared."

"What kind of horrible things?" Pippin asked her, slowly.

Clara shook her head. "That's the thing - I can't tell you. I know the story, but I can't tell you because then that would change the future."

She suddenly understood what the Doctor meant when he said he couldn't go to a certain place or save a certain person because that was a fixed point in time. Whenever he said it, it infuriated her. But now, she was alone and had to deal with this herself... and her brain told her that she couldn't change things here. She could help with little things here and there, but she couldn't change anything drastically.

Pippin stared at her a while and then nodded. "Okay. You're really scaring me, but okay. I'm guessing you don't want anyone else to know?"

"God no," Clara affirmed by shaking her head.

The young hobbit stood up. "I guess I'll leave you to it, then... have a nice time at the party," he told her, but his voice was hesitant.

Clara gave him a small smile as he walked away, but her heart wasn't in it. He didn't trust her anymore - and since he was of a race of one of the most trusting people ever to come out of a book, that hurt. A lot.

She sat there a while. Some hobbit men began to draw up tables around the dancing area and young hobbit couples began to stroll into the area.

Clara stood up. She couldn't take part in anything festive now. She needed to leave... find the Doctor. She didn't belong here, and she would just do something stupid and invite evil into the Shire or something just as horrible.

She took a few steps... and then bumped into someone. She quickly looked up, an apology on her lips - which quickly died away.

Frodo Baggins smiled at her. "There you are. Pippin's gotten himself drunk enough to take himself out of the party and he's been telling some crazy stories about you."

Clara suddenly felt tears springing to her eyes. What was going to happen to him. Was she beginning to care for him? She couldn't do that...

"No, they're not crazy stories."

She tried to walk around Frodo, but moved in front of her.

"Please, Frodo - let me go. I have to go..." she pleaded.

"You're crying," Frodo said with concern in his voice.

Before she knew what was happening, he had led her to a bench at the back and had sat down, pulling her down gently as she tried to protest. She found that he was holding one of her hands, he leaning towards her, a soft questioning look in his eyes.

"Won't you tell me what's wrong?"

She pursed her lips together, trying not to cry, and shook her head.

"Please, Clara?" he persisted.

His blue eyes were so pleading as the colour washed all over her. He made her love her own name when it came in his voice. She had to keep a hold on herself, had to...

"I..it's just that Pippin told you the truth. I come from a different world where there are tales of this land in books and terrible things are going to happen to Pippin and you."

"What kind of things?" Frodo asked.

He didn't seem to be afraid. And he seemed to believe her. He was stroking her hand with the tips of his fingers. It was comforting. It was making her say things she shouldn't.

"Bilbo's ring," she whispered. "Tonight Bilbo is going to leave to go to Rivendell and he's going to leave the Ring for you. Not today, but in a little while, Gandalf is going to find out that it is powerful dangerous. And then you will volunteer to take it somewhere people cannot use it for evil purposes."

Frodo sat up straight at the first mention of the Ring, although he was still holding her hand.

"How do you know about my cousin's ring?" he asked. His voice had a sudden tense edge to it.

"I told you. Where I come from, we have books of stories about you and Bilbo, as well as other people. Before today, I didn't even believe Middle Earth existed."

She tore her hand out of his grasp and turned away, stifling a sob. She had said too much. Way too much. Why was she crying? Where was the strong Clara who travelled with the Doctor? Gone... gone wherever the Doctor and the TARDIS was. She was stranded and now she was a part of these events. Why did it feel like a stab to her heart every time she thought of Frodo's destiny? How could she care for him already? Why did he have to be so kind... Why did he have to look at her like that?

Frodo laid a hand on her shoulder and turned her around gently. "Clara... I believe you. What you said is scaring me more than anything has scared me, but I know it's going to work out. Can I just ask you one question?"

Clara nodded, the tears blurring her vision. "I...I just may not be able to answer it."

Frodo nodded. "I understand. You can't say too much about my future otherwise that would change everything. Does my mission succeed?"

She nodded again. "Yes. But the things that happen to you along the way and at the end..."

He laid a finger on her lips and made a slight shushing noise. "It's okay. I don't need to know, and I really don't want to. But if I succeed, that's all that counts. I'll just have to make sure to say I'll take the Ring, even though I'll be scared to death. Thank you."

"Thank me? For what? I just told you that your life will soon become a nightmare!" Clara persisted, and she felt a tear drop from the well in her eyes and streak down her cheek.

"You're giving me strength for what lies ahead," Frodo said quietly. He moved his hand towards her face and rubbed the tear away with his thumb.

"And thank you for coming. Will you stay and help me through this?"

Clara opened her mouth to tell him that she had no choice, that she was stranded here. But what came out of her mouth was very different... Maybe it was the way his eyes invited everything. Maybe it was the feel of his hand on the side of her face. She didn't know.

"What... what are you saying?" she whispered.

"What I'm saying is that you know my future. And so that means maybe you can help me along with this destiny. I know I wouldn't want anyone else."

She tried to open her lips to say something, but no sound came out. She had the mistake of looking into his eyes too long, and now she was lost within the ocean. She was drowning and she wanted to keep drowning until she died from the lack of air. He still had his hand on the side of her face and her mind was screaming that this was wrong and he was leaning in closer... _Oh God no _as her eyes closed of themselves.

As his lips brushed against her, all tension seemed to dissolve even though little sparks seemed to fly off their lips. Then it all settled and she couldn't stop herself from kissing him back even though her mind was wiped clean of anything other thoughts.

After a moment, he drew back slowly. His blue eyes twinkled and he had that soft smile curving up the ends of his lips.

"Was that a yes?"

"Yes," Clara breathed.


	13. Chapter 13: A Promise to See the Stars

I'M DONE EXAMS! Now for a couple weeks of Christmas vacation! I'm busy watching Netflix (aka _Supernatural _\- I'm dying to write a fanfiction for it, but I need to come up with a really good idea), so I won't be posting too often. But I promise to keep posting. Here's another chapter of Eomer and the Doctor... I'm really starting to love the bromance.

~ D / L ~

"Galadriel? An evil sorceress?" the Doctor suddenly laughed aloud.

Eomer raised a left eyebrow at him. "What is so amusing, Doctor? I am sure if I were to tell you the stories of this Galadriel, your blood will run cold."

"Oh, I don't doubt that they would," the Doctor assured Eomer. "But I happen to have heard some very different stories of Galadriel, and she happens to be a very nice lady."

Eomer stared at him. "What?"

The Doctor sighed. "Okay. You've got me. Well... umm. You may have been wondering how I know about Middle Earth since I'm so clueless about most things?" He stopped, as if afraid to say more.

"It has crossed my mind, yes," Eomer folded his arms and switched eyebrows so that the right one was raised.

The Doctor lifted his own eyebrows, watching Eomer's eyebrow tricks. Then he saw Eomer looking at him and he coughed awkwardly.

"Yes, well. Um. In my world... the world of the future, that is... we have books of... history. About Middle Earth. And it talks about people like you and Rohan and people of other lands... like Galadriel. In Gondor, I think?" His knowledge of Middle Earth was more than rusty.

"Lothlorien. Not Gondor. Gondor is our neighbouring land, and it is certainly not inhabited by elves." Eomer stared at the Doctor a moment.

"You are not lying," he finally decided.

"Good." The Doctor laughed nervously. He wasn't so sure that the history part was truth or fiction, but that wasn't important right now.

"Now that we have agreed to believe each other, shall we see if Galadriel can help us?"

Eomer shrugged. "It is your decision, Doctor."

He looked over to Clara. The girl was still sleeping peacefully, but there was a soft smile on her lips this time. He wondered what she was dreaming about.

"Well, I'm going to try whatever I can, so we will try to find Galadriel and... Lothlorien? Lothlorien," the Doctor repeated more confidently when Eomer nodded at him.

He took a step towards the door, and then stopped, as if wondering what was more important - going to the console room to pinpoint their destination, or staying to make sure Clara was okay.

"Gathorn will watch the maiden," Eomer stated confidently. "Right, Gathorn?"

Gathorn nodded. "Yes, of course, my lord."

He proceeded to draw up a chair to the end of the bed. He stayed standing, but Eomer waved a hand at him.

"No need to keep standing until I am out of the room, Gathorn. We are in more desperate times, and I am leaving right now, anyhow."

Gathorn hesitatingly nodded and sat down, a little awkwardly.

The Doctor stayed a moment later and then nodded. He walked out of the room and strode rapidly down the hall.

They quickly reached the console room. Eomer's men stood to attention, but Eomer quickly waved a hand at them, allowing them to be at ease. He didn't need them right now. Right now, he was more concerned of his new friend, who was staring down at the console panel. He suddenly looked up and saw Eomer looking.

"She'll be fine," he said out loud, but Eomer knew he was trying to reassure himself.

"Gathorn will make sure no harm comes to Clara. I trust him with my life," Eomer said, putting a hand on the Doctor's shoulder.

The Doctor stared at him a moment and then nodded and smiled a small smile.

"Thank you, Eomer. You're a good friend."

Now obviously cheered up, the Doctor's hands flew over some buttons on the console and he pulled down a lever.

"Hold on to whatever you can - preferably not the person the person next to you!" the Doctor yelled, and Eomer's men scrambled to do just that.

Eomer himself put both hands down on the console at the same time that the Doctor did the exact same thing. As the TARIS began its whooshing noise, the two men grinned at each other.

"Let's hope I don't land us somewhere completely different!" the Doctor shouted over the TARDIS.

"Like the middle of an orc camp!" Eomer yelled back.

"Oh, we'd be fine - nothing can get inside my TARDIS!"

"Fine then... a group of trolls."

"Still wouldn't get in."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah."

Eomer grinned. "I'd like to see you try."

The Doctor took one hand off the console and gave Eomer a friendly punch, his eyes twinkling. "I may take you up on that some day."

Eomer threw back his head and laughed as the sound of the TARDIS slowed and stopped. The Doctor rushed away from the console and towards the door, but stopped as his hand went towards the handle.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" the Doctor waved his fingers impatiently. "Come on!"

Eomer pretended to think about it, his hand on his sword. "Only if you promise me something."

The Doctor looked taken aback. "What?"

"That after all of this is over, you take me to see the stars, Doctor."

A slow smile spread over the Doctor's face.

"I'd be more than happy to, Eomer," he said softly.

The two men stared at each other a moment and Eomer suddenly felt excitement bubbling up in his chest. He had fought against enemies as long as he had remembered. He had played with a wooden sword before he could even walk. After all that, he had to admit to himself that he was tired of always being on the move, having to fight orcs and other foul creatures. But now, even though he was sure danger lay ahead, Eomer suddenly didn't care. He even relished the thought of it.

And that, he decided, was what the Doctor was about.


	14. Chapter 14: Back in Black (Out)

_A/N: Here's another chapter for you lovelies! Sorry it's been so long coming.._

~ D / L ~

Clara straightened up from her sweeping and leaned against the round door frame leading into Frodo's study. She wiped her forehead and sighed a little, partly from exhaustion, but there was a light in her eyes.

All that she had read about had come to pass. Bilbo made his speech, he really did disappear, and he had left the Ring for Frodo. Gandalf gave a few warning words and went away. Frodo never told him anything... they both knew he couldn't, otherwise it could change history drastically.

Now Clara was the housekeeper at Bag End. Frodo had explained, a little hesitatingly, that it would seem odd to the people if she was just staying at Bag End when she wasn't... well, wasn't his wife. Create scandal and all that. Hobbits never forgot the smallest scandal. Once that necessary awkward speech was over, Clara assured him that she understood. She had been the one to think of the housekeeper position, actually.

She still had a remembrance of all her other selves that had been created when she had stepped into the Doctor's timeline to save him. Several of those Claras had lived in Victorian London, and at least half of them had taken some sort of servile work. Clara was handy enough with a duster and she could do dishes. She hoped that the memory of those other Claras would jog the memory in her limbs, as well.

The kiss that night had dissolved any romantic tension between them... it seemed to have dissolved anything romantic, except for the occasional kiss on cheek or grasp of her hand. Sometimes Frodo would touch her arm while he passed her in the hall, and Clara would sometimes catch Frodo looking at her with a small smile on his face. But never anything past that. Clara didn't mind - she just enjoyed their quiet and warm, steady and dependable friendship.

Frodo insisted she didn't need to do anything besides pretending to dust and so forth when nosy hobbits come prying around, but Clara found her fingers itching when she saw books covered in dust on Bilbo's shelves or Frodo's desk covered in a mess of papers. Once she had done a big bout of cleaning the first day they were alone at Bag End, there wasn't much to do because Frodo didn't make too much of a mess.

She tried her hand at cooking, too. It took her a while to get all the chopping and mixing done, but while it took her forever to make something, it always tasted good. Clara even found that she was finally able to make a souffle! Well, okay... Frodo had saved it from burning, but she had put the ingredients together. Frodo had shown her some dishes of standard hobbit fare - he wasn't a bad cook himself.

When Clara had finished her cleaning and Frodo finished his research (he was trying to scrounge up any information about the outside world - to be precise, the Ring and Sauron), they would go for a walk or, if there was bad weather, play a game of chess. Frodo told Clara all he knew about hobbits, the Shire, and Middle Earth in general. Clara told Frodo how she had met the Doctor and all about their adventures together. She saw that Frodo's hands would sometimes clutch the side of his armchair a little too tight when she mentioned the times that the Doctor put her in harm's way. She knew she was probably defending the Doctor too much, but she had never seen it as his fault - not really.

And so time passed. It had been months since Clara had landed in Hobbiton. Winter had come and gone and the first blossoms of spring were popping up. She had stopped hoping or even expecting that the Doctor would ever show up. But everyone who travelled with the Doctor always got left behind or died or left themselves at some point, right? If he had even shown up, Clara wasn't sure if she would agree to come back with him. She had grown to love the Shire and Frodo too much.

Clara was startled out of her reminiscence by the sound of Frodo's shuffling feet.

"Hey," she said, the dimples forming in her cheeks as she smiled at Frodo, who was standing in the doorway, hands in his trouser pockets.

"Hey." He returned her smile. "I was thinking of going for a walk. The air is getting warm and we get some beautiful flowers right about now that die away pretty quickly. I wanted to show them to you. Coming?"

"I'd love to, yeah."

Clara rested her broom on the wall and dusted off her hands on her skirt. She still had her London clothes packed away in a drawer in her room - Frodo had let her pick out whichever she wanted. Now she wore the approved clothing for hobbit women. She had never realized how much hobbits loved yellow and green. She preferred to stick with something red.

Frodo opened the door and stepped aside to let her walk out first. Once outside, Frodo gave her his arm and they strolled down the path towards a little park that had a forested lane. After walking through the trees in silence, breathing deep in the fresh air and the smell of life, they came across the first patch of flowers.

Clara unlooped her arm and knelt down beside the flowers. They reminded her of lilacs, except that they were red and grew from the ground, not a bush.

"They're beautiful," she exclaimed softly, running light fingers over one the tiny cluster of blossoms.

Frodo knelt down beside and her deftly pulled out one of the clusters, and tucked it into her hair. Then he met her gaze and smiled.

"Now you look like an elven princess," he said in a quiet tone, that soft smile on his lips again.

Clara returned his smile, a little shyly.

"I think I'd rather be a hobbit princess."

Frodo laughed a little.

"It's your choice, but I think the elves have quite a higher standard of excellence for royalty. We don't even have royalty in the Shire - I think the highest you could go up in rank would be the mayor's wife. Of course, there's always the chance that you could become Mayor... though that hasn't happened yet in Hobbiton. I think Merry said there was a female mayor somewhere over Buckland, though."

Clara was silent a moment trying to think a moment of something to say. Then she dimpled and her eyes sparkled mischievously. She stood up and Frodo joined her.

"I'd love to attempt to be Hobbiton's first female mayor... at least just to see the look on old Whitfoot's face." She laughed, and Frodo joined her.

After the last chuckles died away, Clara spoke again, her eyes serious. "But I really don't care all that much. I'd much rather stay being the housekeeper at Bag End forever... if it means that I can be with you."

Frodo's face sobered. "Are you sure? I know I asked you to stay... but to tell the truth, I regret it every day. I don't want to put you in danger."

Clara shook her head a little. "No. I want to stay with you Frodo Baggins. To the end."

She was just going to lean forward and kiss him when she suddenly felt faint. She reached out a hand and grasped Frodo's arm tightly as she swayed.

"Clara? Clara, are you alright?" Frodo asked worriedly.

Clara tried to answer as she tried to blink away the fuzziness around him, but when she opened her eyes, she found to her dismay that she wasn't in the Shire.

She was lying in her bed in the Tardis, and a man dressed in armour was sitting at the foot of her bed.

"Lady Clara?" The man stood up and his face lit up. "Lady Clara, you're awake! My lords Eomer and Doctor have just left to seek for aid for your condition. But it looks like the help of that sorceress Galadriel," his face wrinkled in disgust at the name, "will not be necessary. Let me call them. Lady Clara? Lady Clara, stay with us!"

Just as Clara tried to sit up, in dismay, willing herself to find her back in the Shire, she blinked again and she was still in bed... but in her bed at Bag End. Instead of the soldier dressed in medieval armour, Frodo was standing by her side.

"Clara! Thank Eru, I thought I had lost you."

Frodo's face was a mixture of despair being replaced by hope, and worry being replaced with jubilant joy. He stroked the side of her face with one smooth hand, the other was holding hers.

"Frodo..." Clara found that her energy had been completely drained, and she could barely even whisper the words.

"Do not speak, young Clara. You will soon regain your strength. Rest now."

The words were not in Frodo's voice. As Clara looked up, she saw a familiar figure towering over both herself and Frodo.

_Gandalf._


	15. Chapter 15: Clara

I had some troubles with this chapter, so I apologize for any code that may show. Let me know if the chapter looks weird in any way... I hope to upload another soon!

~ D / L ~

When Eomer stepped out of the TARDIS, he was met by the bright light of day. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sunlight before he could view the scenery.

He was in a forest. But even though this forest was full of trees, the sun shone through them as if there were no trees. The forest was a paragon of life – the leaves of the trees and the grass were a lush green, birds flew overhead, there were flowers _everywhere_...

Eomer shook his head. Eowyn would love this place. She would sometimes complain about the flatness of Rohan, of the lack of trees, the scarcity of flowers. Eru, he had never seen so many flowers in one place, and this wasn't even a garden.

A butterfly flew past his face and landed on his hand. Eomer stared at it, his face taking on a look of intense confusion, maybe even a little fear. What was he supposed to _do_? He knew how to kill the foul creatures of Mordor, not hold a tiny delicate creature, for Eru's sake! He was afraid if he even moved, he would kill it.

The Doctor coughed and Eomer looked up at him, an almost pleading look on his face.

"You know if you just move your hand, it'll fly away, right?" the Doctor said, raising _his_ left eyebrow.

Eomer scowled. He didn't like being in a position where he didn't even know what to do with the animals of his own world, let alone be looked at with his own signature stare. But he moved his hand a little bit, and the butterfly flew away. For some reason, Eomer felt a little sad. Hadn't the butterfly _wanted_ stay on his hand? He had just pushed it away – like how he had pushed Eowyn away... his uncle... even Gathorn. This whole mess in Rohan was his fault. If only he hadn't tried so hard to be the perfect warrior and leader...

He looked up again and the Doctor was still staring at him... but this time, with a concerned look on his face.

"Are you okay?"

Eomer forced himself to smile a little.

"I am fine, Doctor. Let's just go find this Galadriel so that we can help Lady Clara."

The Doctor looked at him in a weird way for a split second, but his face soon cracked into a beaming smile.

"Right-o, let's go! Hmm, I've always wanted to say 'right-o'... it sounds so... so British."

He led the way through the forest, practically _skipping_. Eomer chuckled to himself. The Doctor looked like a man, but he behaved like a child. And yet he had seen so much... and had lost so many people. How could he keep a smile on his face after all this? Unless... unless he was hiding the pain, like Eomer himself was.

They hadn't gone very far before Eomer and the Doctor suddenly stopped because there were arrows suddenly pointing at their faces. The arrows were in bows held by tall men with long hair, all blond. Eomer groaned inwardly. These must be elves. He knew all about the elves. They were only interested in things like emlearning /emand emsinging/em. Disgusting. Did they even know how to fight like men? Yet these elves were holding their bows like experts. So Eomer didn't say anything, though he had a couple of exceptionally snarky comments on the tip of his tongue.

"Who are you, strangers? And why have you entered the Lady's blessed realm of peace?"

One of the elves stepped forward. This one had brown hair with two little braids on each side at the front. To Eomer, it looked absolutely ridiculous... but the elf's face was stern, haughty, and commanding. Eomer felt like he wasn't the type to be crossed.

"We... uh... came to see your Lady. Galadriel." The Doctor was standing his ground, a smile on his face, not uneasy at all. But his etiquette needed some work. So Eomer spoke up.

"Please, your lordships," he said, gritting his teeth, hating to have to bow and scrape to _pretty men with bows_. "We seek audience with the Lady Galadriel. The matter is of greatest urgency."

"Greatest urgency?" The leader of this elven group wasn't impressed. At all.

"What would a _man_ _of Rohan_ possibly have to say that would interest the Lady Galadriel?" he sneered.

"Okay, well, it isn't exactly urgent. Well, it is. Kinda. To us." The Doctor broke in, stammering awkwardly. "But I'm sure Ga... the Lady Galadriel wouldn't mind. I...it'll only take a couple of minutes."

"Please?" Eomer added.

Lord Orc (as Eomer had nicknamed the pretentious elf in his head) opened his mouth to say something... and then closed it. A strange look came over his face.

"Yes, Lady Galadriel," he muttered under his breath, looking a little ashamed, but mostly disgusted.

"The Lady Galadriel will see you," Lord Orc said, his face saying but-if-I-could-do-what-I-wanted-I'd-hand-you-over-to-the-Dark-Lord-himself.

And so that's how the Doctor and Eomer found themselves standing at the foot of two thrones. A tall elf with a stern face (and with blonde hair, of course) was sitting on the left; an even taller woman was sitting on the right. She was beautiful, Eomer had to admit. _For an elf_, he added in his head, though he wasn't believing himself. While her husband was proud and haughty, Galadriel's face looked kind, just, ... and beautiful.

Eomer looked over at the Doctor and saw a look in his eyes that was a little more than infatuated. That broke the spell over him, and he grinned, shaking his head.

"Eomer, a man of Rohan... and the Doctor, a strange man from afar," Lady Galadriel suddenly spoke up. She seemed very interested with the Doctor... though not in _that way_. Eomer nudged his new friend in the ribs and shook his head and mouthed, _married_.

"I can see that you have travelled far... and you're not from this world, either." Galadriel either hadn't noticed Eomer's nudge or was pretending not to have noticed... probably the latter, Eomer thought.

The Doctor found his voice. "No, I'm not, your... Ladyship." He was getting awkward again.

Galadriel smiled. "Please... call me Galadriel. I don't enjoy formalities very much." (Her husband didn't look too happy with that statement.)

"Galadriel," the Doctor corrected himself, suddenly seeming a lot more confident now that they were on a first-name basis. "... yes, I have travelled. Quite a bit, actually. I come from another world..."

"Your home planet is named Gallifrey," Galadriel suddenly broke in.

The Doctor looked surprised. No, astounded. No, absolutely flabbergasted. "H...how did you know that?"

Galadriel smiled. "I have the gift of sight."

She held up her hand and the white stone of a ring glittered in the sunlight. Eomer didn't know how he knew, but he suddenly did. No ring could give off such an aura of power and fill him with such a sense of dread.

It was a ring of Power.

"This is Nenya, one of the three Elven Rings," Galadriel said, looking at Eomer with a yes-it-is-what-you-think-it-is look. Then she smiled a little bit more broadly. "Do not worry, Eomer, son of Eomund. I only use it for peaceful things - like the growing of flowers and keeping our borders strong against the forces of Mordor."

"You have come here about your travelling companion, have you not?" Galadriel continued.

"Her name is... Clara," she mused. "I have seen her. She has a great destiny in this land."

"Wha...what do you mean?" the Doctor spluttered. "She's in a coma! I need you to fix her! ... Please," he added, in a slightly more respectful voice.

"Her body is with you, but her spirit is elsewhere... somewhere in this Middle Earth. I do not know exactly where. I could perhaps 'fix' her, as you call it, if you were able to find her spirit. But even then, I am not sure. This is the girl's fate. It was not an accident."

"W...ill she be in a coma forever then?" the Doctor asked slowly. There was water shining in his eyes. Eomer felt his heart going out for his friend again. He knew that the Doctor had already gone through so much pain in his life. He didn't need more.

"I'm not sure," Galadriel admitted. "But your best chance is to find Clara's spirit."

"How do we find a spirit?" Eomer spoke up. "Won't she be... invisible... to us?"

"No, not invisible." Galadriel shook her head. "She'll look the same way she always did... with some changes. For example, if she was set down in elven country, she will look like one us, with pointy ears."

"So... we basically search all of Middle Earth then?" the Doctor asked. He was sounding less and less convinced this was going to work.

"Yes," Galadriel said, gently. "I am sorry, Doctor... but this is the best that I can do. When you find Clara's spirit, then you must entrap it in some sort of closed container and bring her to me. Then I can attempt to bring her spirit and body back together."

"Okay..." The Doctor forced a smile. "I guess that's what we'll do then."

He turned to Eomer. "Do you want me to drop you off somewhere before I go searching for Clara? I can try to take you back where we met, but I don't know if I can get the time quite correct..."

"I'm coming," Eomer broke into the Doctor's stammering rambles. He laughed a little at the surprise in the Doctor's face.

"What, did you think I was just going to let you go off on a chase all over Middle Earth by yourself? You need some help... and Eru, I have to admit that this intrigues me. And I want to help Lady Clara."

The Doctor's face brightened up. "Really?" he asked.

"Really," Eomer said, even though he didn't exactly know that the term 'really' meant.

"Alright then..." The Doctor suddenly turned on his heel and ran over to the left. "Let's go find Clara's spirit!" he shouted.

"Uhhh... Doctor?"

The Doctor stopped and turned a little.

"Yeah?"

"The TARDIS is that way," Eomer said, smirking a little as he pointed in the opposite direction the Doctor had taken.

"Oh... right. Yeah, I knew that."

The Doctor set off in that direction at a run.

Eomer remembered the etiquette the Doctor had forgotten in his excitement.

"Thank you, Lady Galadriel," he said, sweeping into a bow.

"I am sure we will see each other again," Galadriel smiled. "Now, go after your friend... before he loses himself again."

Eomer grinned. "I will do that."

He set off at a run before he lost the Doctor, who would most likely lose himself.


	16. Chapter 16: Chocolate

I had some coding problems with the last chapter... so sorry about that! You can go back and read it now in all its glory. ;) Hope you enjoy this next chapter (actually, I'd like to say that you better because I lost it and had to rewrite it all over again). I finally finished catching up with Supernatural, so I'll be starting a Doctor Who / SPN crossover fanfiction soon - I've got it all outlined and everything.

A few notes on this fanfiction... Just to let you know, I'm going to be bringing in some more characters from the LOTR books soon, so there is still hope on seeing some of your favourites. This chapter is where things are going to turn more book-y because the book is much, much better than the movie (just saying). So there'll be things appearing such as characters like Fredegar Bolger, who didn't appear in the movies. ... I've also been influenced by some fanfiction reading, so I'll be upping the rating to an M for romance. There won't be anything really explicit, I just want to be careful, y'know? So yes, there will be some romance in this chapter because this is the last domestic chapter you'll be getting 'cause Crickhollow won't really count.

~ D / L ~

It wasn't until the next day that Gandalf and Frodo would let Clara get up, let alone tell her anything. In fact, Frodo wanted to bring her breakfast in bed, but Clara's legs were aching to move after being in bed since waking up yesterday in the early afternoon.

So now she sat at the breakfast table across from Gandalf, with a cup of tea in her hands, and Frodo sitting next to her. She didn't know if Frodo's worry had made him want to go back to that little spark at the party, but after a few minutes of eating in silence (Gandalf insisted she had to eat something before he'd start talking), Clara realized that Frodo's hand had crept to resting on her leg. It felt... _right_. She sneaked a glance at Frodo... he was looking at her with a question in his eyes. She smiled a small quick smile at him, assentingly, and then turned her attention back to Gandalf, who had just started speaking.

Gandalf told her what he knew about the Ring. Then Frodo told Clara that he had told Gandalf what she had told him. He had thought it was important, seeing as things were starting to move into action. Clara wasn't sure she agreed, but there was no use crying over spilt milk. At least now she wouldn't have to worry that she'd say something that she'd regret in front of Gandalf.

"But we've also got other matters on our hands," Gandalf added. He turned his grey eyes on Clara. "You were asleep for a week."

Clara gasped. "A week? You never told me... how? Why...?"

Gandalf held up a hand to stop her talking.

"During that time, I examined your body, and I have come to conclusion that when your friend's machine... the TARDIS, you called it? Yes. ... when the TARDIS crashed, I believe that there was a split of your body and soul. Your soul is here, with us, and your body is back in the TARDIS, with the Doctor."

"How can you know that?" Clara asked. Her voice came out a little shrill from the concern and confusion washing over her. She felt Frodo's fingers stroke her leg in a comforting gesture.

"From what Frodo told me, it is the only thing that makes sense to me - having a different body and what happened to you. The Doctor's machine sounds like it could have the power to do such a thing."

"So... if that's what happened, what are we going to do?" Clara asked. She was feeling a little more calmed down by the feeling of Frodo's fingertips making circles on her leg, but her voice was small.

"Stay with Frodo. You'll have to go along with him to Rivendell because of our... other matter, but you'll be safe enough. Meanwhile, I'll see if I can find your friend. If the TARDIS crashed, he must be somewhere. Once I find the Doctor, then we can worry about what next to do. You wouldn't happen to have something of the Doctor's, would you?" Gandalf asked.

Clara shook her head, then stopped. "Wait... I think I still have the key to the TARDIS with me. Would that work?"

"Yes, that would be fine. No, don't go. You can get it later," Gandalf added when Clara made a move to get up.

Clara bit her lip and nodded. "Okay."

She sighed. "I... I just wish I hadn't screwed things up. Me being here has already changed things. In the books, Frodo wasn't supposed to leave the Shire until he was the same age as Bilbo went on his adventure, but now it hasn't even been a year since the big party. Who knows what else is going to happen because of me."

"No, I think it was a good thing. This way, we have a head start on the Enemy. We could have this problem dealt with before He even learns that the Ring could perhaps even be in the Shire," Gandalf smiled at her reassuringly.

Frodo nodded. "I'm glad you're here, Clara," he added quietly.

Clara gave him a small smile. "Well, let's just hope that I caused more good than harm, then."

She scraped back her chair to get up.

"Are you sure you're fine to be up and about?" Frodo asked, a hint of concern in his tone.

"After being laid up for a week, my legs need to stretch. I'll be fine... promise."

Clara smiled as cheerfully as her traces of guilt would allow her, and, after a moment of hesitation, leaned down and kissed the top of his head. His big mess of curly hair tickled her nose and was _so soft _to her lips. His hair smelled wonderful... she couldn't place the scent... making her want to breathe it in forever. But Gandalf was watching, so she only lingered a few seconds. As she straightened up, Clara saw Gandalf smiling a little in her peripheral, however, and as she swept away from the table, carrying her empty dishes, she felt Frodo reach out his hand and brush his fingertips on her arm.

~ D / L ~

"Are you going to be telling Merry and Pippin and Fatty?" Clara called from the kitchen where she was packing food for the food. "I feel like they deserve to know with all the help they're giving us. And Sam already knows."

It was early morning of Frodo's birthday, a Thursday in September a couple of months since Gandalf had discovered Clara's problem. Frodo had sold the house to the Sackville-Bagginses (Clara had thought it would've been a great idea if Frodo had found a different buyer... it would've made a triumphant end to her hatred of Lobelia back from when she read the books as a girl, but no one else seemed to want the place), and they were moving to Crickhollow.

Well, that's what everyone else thought. In reality, they would only be staying at the new place for a night before setting off for Rivendell. Clara found herself wondering what it would be like to stay at the new house - have a quiet life with Frodo. For the first time, she suddenly understood Frodo's desire in the books to just hand the Ring off to someone else. She had loved the life of adventure that the Doctor had introduced her to... but the idea of domesticity suddenly had a shining allure to it.

Frodo walked into the kitchen, pulling a brown suspender strap over his shoulder.

"I dunno..." he said, cautiously. "Merry, I feel like we could trust. Fatty's usually good with secrets. But Pippin?"

"True," Clara assented, stopping her packing and turning a little so that she could give him a little smile. "But I think he could keep this one. He's not the most mature hobbit, but we should give him a break and let him grow up, I think."

Frodo considered for a moment.

"You're right," he nodded. "I think we don't give him enough credit."

He came over to where Clara was packing. She had made a batch of cookies as a small treat for the Birthday, and there was a tray cooling off to the side. Frodo leaned over Clara and picked a cookie off the tray, taking a big bite out of it and grinning at her.

Clara just grinned back and shook her head.

"You hobbits," she teased.

Frodo popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth and finished chewing before replying.

"You're a hobbit, too, you know."

He suddenly reached out his arms and put his hands on Clara's waist. Clara felt her heart beginning to race again from the lack of anything romantic between them until recently, but she shyly reached up and put her arms around his neck.

"You should try one... they're very delicious, I assure you," Frodo added, his blue eyes twinkling at her. His expression turned serious as he looked at her.

"Are you okay? You're not going to have another fainting spell, are you?" he asked, referring to the times when Clara had felt dizzy and had to sit down. They hadn't been often, and Clara was just grateful that she didn't wake up in the TARDIS again, as strange as that would have sounded to her over a year ago.

"No, I'm good." Clara was finding it a little hard to breathe. "It's just... I haven't... we haven't... for a while... " She was getting lost in his eyes again and was making no sense.

A tiny smile tugged up the corners of Frodo's lips.

"Maybe this will help," he said, and he leaned in and kissed her softly.

His breath smelled like chocolate and his lips were _so soft_ and Clara found herself trembling all over... and then her body suddenly felt strong again. She kissed him back deeply, her hands moving up into his hair. Frodo kissed her back just as deeply, his hands, now at the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. Clara finally had to pull away for breath. Strangely, her heart rate had gone down... and there was something else.

"I love you," she said softly, her hand reaching up to touch his cheek.

"I love you, too, Clara Oswin Oswald," Frodo smiled at her.

There was the sound of a wagon pulling up outside. Probably Merry and Fatty, back for another load.

"I should finish packing the food and start getting supper ready," Clara murmured, pulling back.

"In a second," Frodo grinned a little, his grin softening into a smile as he reached up and caressed her cheek. "I can't believe it took me this long to realize that how much I love you," he said, and before Clara could even think of how to respond to that, he leaned in and kissed her again.

It wasn't 'just a second,' and Clara heard the door open. She heard Pippin give an amused cackle, a shushing that sounded like Merry, and a little sigh from Fredegar (Fatty) Bolger. But she had tingles all over her body and didn't even care that Frodo continued to kiss her with three other hobbits in the room.


	17. Chapter 17: Lord Doctor

When they got back to the TARDIS, the Doctor wanted to check on Clara, so they went through the winding hallways again. Eomer tried to keep a track of where they were going, trying to memorize the way, but it was very difficult when there were so few landmarks. Mostly it was just the same hallways with the same number of closed doors on each side. Eomer remembered what the Doctor had said about the TARDIS hiding Clara's room from her, and wondered if the TARDIS was trying to do something similar with him.

"Wary of strangers, are you?" Eomer said softly, running his hand against the wall of the fourteenth or fifteenth hallway. The Doctor was too far ahead of him to hear, striding along quickly, turning back every now and again to make sure he hadn't lost Eomer. "Me, too."

The wall suddenly pulsed a small amount of warmth, right underneath his fingertips. Eomer raised an eyebrow. So it... _she_, he reminded himself... she _was _alive. It made Eomer smile a little.

"You and I are so unalike then," he mused, keeping his hand on the wall.

He had to turn a corner, but when his hand touched the wall again, the warmth still followed it. Eomer found himself wondering what the TARDIS had looked like when she was a woman... if she would ever be a woman again. And perhaps, if so, if that would happen when Eomer was around.

The thought startled Eomer. He had fought for the honour of many ladies, but he had never thought about a woman in such a way - what her hair would feel like in his fingers, what the skin of her hand would feel like if he pressed his lips to it.

He had no more time to dwell on such matters - or reproach himself for thinking of such things, either - because they had reached the room where Clara was lying on her bed, unconscious, sleeping, perhaps dreaming of better things.

Gathorn met them at the door.

"My lords," he bowed. "Lady Clara awoke after you left, but she fell back asleep after only a matter of seconds."

The Doctor started at this piece of information. He rushed over to Clara's bedside, where Clara was sleeping in exactly the same way that they had left her. The Doctor picked up Clara's little white hand laying on the sheets, intertwining it with his own. He looked up at Gathorn.

"What happened when she woke up? Was she dazed? Confused? Did she seem ill? What happened? Tell me everything!" he demanded, his face a mixture of hope and anxiety.

"She appeared to be surprised... sorrowful, even, that she had woken up. She didn't want to be awake... but when she fell back asleep, she became peaceful again," Gathorn explained, his voice meek, that tone that he used whenever he was afraid that he did something that would displease Lord Eomer.

The Doctor turned back to Clara and nodded. "Well, then... wherever she is, at least it's a good place if she didn't want to come back here," he said, but his voice didn't sound very happy. Eomer realized what it was at once.

If there was a place where Clara was happier than in the TARDIS with the Doctor, would she want to come back?

He turned to his second-in-command. "Thank you, Gathorn. You have done a fine job of watching over the lady."

Gathorn blushed at the praise that came so little from Eomer and bowed again. "Thank you, my lord. I wish only to serve in the best way possible."

Eomer turned back to see the Doctor. The time lord was looking down at Clara with a partly wistful, partly jealous look in his eyes. He wanted to get rid of that sad look on his friend's face, so he spoke up, even though he knew he was ruining a moment. But it was a moment that wasn't good for him.

"So, where shall we start looking for Clara?" he asked.

The Doctor looked up, a displeased look in his eyes that quickly died away. He put on a smile that Eomer could see was forced. But at least he was trying.

"How about... Rohan?" the Doctor asked. "You have a sister, right? I'm sure she'd be happy to see you."

Eomer found himself grinning. "That is a very fine idea, Doctor."

"Right then!" the Doctor stood up and gave one more look at Clara. "Let's go to Rohan, then. We'll get one of the men in the console room to come back and take over your post for you, Gathorn."

"Oh, but I am perfectly capable of..." Gathorn started.

The Doctor held up his hand. "No buts, Gathorn. We know that you are capable, but you deserve a rest."

Before Gathorn could say any more, the Doctor led the way back to the console room.

~ D / L ~

The next time that the TARDIS doors opened, Eomer was met by the familiar sight of Edoras. He grinned and clapped the Doctor on the back.

"Thank you for bringing me home first," he said, giving the Doctor a smile.

The Doctor shrugged. "No problem."

"We will have to take great care, my lord," Gathorn spoke up from behind them. There was a hint of concern in his tone. "Wormtongue still has a price on your head in the writing of the King."

Eomer slapped his forehead. He had forgotten in the excitement of being able to go home and see his sister again.

"You are right, Gathorn! We cannot merely walk into the Golden Hall and expect to be welcomed."

His eyebrows furrowed in thought for a moment, and then he turned to the Doctor.

"Doctor, perhaps you could go with Gathorn. Take a message to my sister and lead her back here."

The Doctor looked hesitant, but then he nodded.

"Sure," he said, smiling, but his voice was unsure.

"We'll give you some armour from one of my men... I'm sure there'll be someone with your build," Eomer continued, though he didn't sound quite sure, either, that any of his men would be as lanky and tall as the time lord.

"And you'll also have to have a reason for coming to Edoras... oh, I know!" Eomer grinned. "You'll have news of me. You will tell my uncle, the king, that Eomer, son of Eomund, has been doing foul deeds in the land of Rohan, and you want to have permission to cut off my head and bring it back to Theoden."

"A...are you sure?" the Doctor asked, his eyes a little wide. "Wouldn't that put you in greater danger if anyone were to see you?"

"It is of no consequence," Eomer waved his hand dismissively. "I have been in greater danger among orcs before. I am already banished. This would not make it much worse."

And so that is how the Doctor found himself in loose-fitting armour, walking side by side with Gathorn, who was supposed to have changed allegiances for this new, much better, lord. Gathorn, out of his shell now that he was not around Eomer and with this other man who was interested in his opinions, was talking rapidly, giving the Doctor advice of how he should behave, what he should say, little details for everything. The bits of advice were swirling around in his head, and the Doctor was sure he would forget 99% of it, and especially the most important things.

"And look confident, my lord Doctor," Gathorn hissed under his breath as they began climbing up the steps to the Golden Hall, the king's guards waiting for them. "You must look, act, and speak like you have been raised nobly. I mean... not that you haven't been. But nobly as according to our customs."

"And who might you be, stranger, to come and seek audience with our King?" a man with long red hair and beard spoke up. He had a strange look on his face as he looked to the Doctor's right side and saw Gathorn.

"This is the Lord Doctor, Gamling," Gathorn spoke up before the Doctor could. The Doctor was relieved. At least there was one less thing for him to mess up.

"He has word of the King's nephew, ill tidings, and wishes to speak to the King about it."

Gamling didn't look too convinced, but he nodded. "Then you must leave your weapons here, by order of the King."

Gathorn handed one of the guards his sword and a small dagger. The Doctor awkwardly pulled out the beautiful sword that Eomer had lent him, held it out to Gamling, then quickly realized his mistake and moved his hand a little to the left so that one of the other guards could take it.

Once their weapons had been taken, Gamling looked satisfied.

"Follow me," he commanded, turning as the other guards pushed open the big double doors of the Golden Hall.

The Doctor thought that the interior of the hall might look quite nice if the windows were uncovered. As it was, the few windows that did not have curtains drawn over them created a dusky gloom, shrouding the tapestries as well as everything else in a very dim light. The pillars looked to be ornately carved, but the Doctor couldn't study their detail due to this lack of light... and to the fact that he was being hurriedly marched towards King Theoden.

He tried to remember what Gathorn had told him - shoulders down, head up, walk straight, a look on one's face that is not disapproving, but noble. What did a noble expression of face look like... and more importantly, how did one achieve it? The Doctor settled for a calm face and hoped it was good enough.

As they drew closer to the throne, the Doctor saw a very old man with a crown upon his head. His hair was white, his skin pale, his eyes drooping. He had a sickly look about him. The Doctor was surprised that someone in his condition would be even sitting there. He should be in bed with the covers drawn up, being attended by the doctors of the kingdom. Or herbalists. Or whatever they had here.

Sitting by King Theoden was a man with long black hair, stringy and greasy. He had a sly look upon his face that made the Doctor immediately take a disliking to him... and he liked everyone. As the Doctor and Gathorn drew near, the dark-haired man lifted his head and drew near to the king's ear, whispering something in it. Then he stood up to address them.

"And who might you be, to disturb the king's peace, stranger? I would think that you come of no good purpose, with this murderous traitor at your side," the dark-haired man spoke up, his voice hissing out a little.

"My lord Grima." Gathorn bowed, glancing at the Doctor for a split second with a look on his face that told the Doctor that this was a most unpleasant thing for him to do. He must hate this Grima very deeply.

"I thought about what you said, and I left the lord Eomer to return to the King's side."

"Lord," Grima sniffed. "I should think not."

Gathorn cleared his throat. "On the journey back to Edoras, I crossed paths a mighty lord who also wished to see the king. This is the Lord Doctor... I will let him speak for himself."

The Doctor froze for a moment. What was he supposed to do first? Should he bow? Not to that unpleasant Grima... So he bowed a little, albeit stiffly, towards the King.

"Your Majesty," he said, not sure if that was the right thing to say, or if King Theoden could even hear him.

"I have been a solitary man, content to keep my people safe and pay tribute to you. But when your nephew, Eomer, started to plunder our village and murder our men..." He paused for effect, and immediately saw it was a good decision. Grima was licking his lips and had a hungry look on his face, as if this was just what he wanted to hear.

"Forgive me, I hate to disturb your kingly rest." That was a bad choice of words; he could see it right away in Gathorn's eyes.

"But I wish to have your permission to rid your lands of this foul man." That felt horrible, calling Eomer 'foul.'

"Done!" Grima exclaimed, excitedly, then quickly sobered, but there was a grin on his face.

Well, so other people could make mistakes, too.

"Of course, with the king's permission. But you agree, do you not, my lord king?" Grima asked, bending towards the king.

King Theoden made some kind of mumbling noise.

"Permission granted!" Grima announced, smirking. "Our good wishes go with you, Lord Doctor, and we thank you for taking this noble quest upon yourself."

The Doctor nodded. Now for the risky part.

"I wish to talk to Eomer's sister. I feel that it is I that should break the news to her," he said, hesitantly.

Grima paused, a strange look on his face.

"Permission granted, my lord," he said, but he didn't look pleased.

The Doctor nodded again. "Thank you."

At least the hard part was over, though who knew what other surprises could pop up.


	18. Chapter 18: Which is the Dream?

Clara went through the dark hobbit hole, making sure there wasn't anything that had been left out of the packing, anything that wasn't being left to the Sackville-Bagginses. She smirked to herself as she saw the sink full of dishes. She had just been about to heave herself up from the table, not feeling like doing the dishes one last time before they left, when Pippin had stopped her.

"Leave them for Lobelia," he grinned.

"Sounds good to me," Clara said, sitting back down, although she glanced at Frodo to make sure he was okay with it. Frodo didn't respond, his conscience probably troubling the gentle heart she had gotten to know so well - but the right corner of his lips curved up just the tiniest bit.

So she enjoyed the last few moments they had at the table at Bag End, the hobbit hole that had become a home to Clara. She loved it just as much as if she had lived here for years, like Frodo had. Of course, she hadn't, so Frodo was, admittedly, probably much more sad about leaving than she was. But Frodo was more important to her than Bag End.

As Clara walked towards the door, hurrying a little because she could just imagine Pippin groaning about how long she was taking, she saw saw Frodo standing in the doorway, his body almost a silhouette instead of flesh from the dark. He was standing quietly, his hands by his sides.

"Goodbye, Bag End, my home. I doubt I'll ever see you again," Frodo spoke quietly.

Clara walked softly to his side and put an arm around him, resting her head on his shoulder. "If I have anything to do with it, you'll be back here soon," she said softly. "_We _will be back."

Frodo turned his head a little to look at her, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he put his arm around her waist. He turned his head and rested his head against hers. Not speaking, but no words were needed.

They had only been standing there a moment when Clara heard a padding of hobbit feet behind them and when she turned, Sam's silhouette was in view. He was wiping his mouth, and Clara realized he must have had been down to visit the beer before they left.

"You've got a little bit of foam right there," Clara smirked and pointed to the corner of her lips.

Sam blushed - yes, it was able to be seen in the dark - and quickly swiped at his mouth again.

"Now, where's that Peregrin?" Frodo asked a little louder than necessary to alert Pippin if he was anywhere near. "I thought he said he was aching to go."

Pippin came rushing up the walkway, having already vaulted the gate. "Sorry," he said, all out of breath. "I was just... uhh... checking to make sure there wasn't anything left in the garden."

Sam made a snort of disgust and Clara and Frodo gave each other knowing looks. They knew that Diamond had been visiting some friends in Hobbiton for a fortnight. They also knew very well that Pippin had been going to the "Green Dragon" a lot recently. And Clara had spotted Pippin snipping at some of Bilbo's flowers in the back - the bush that Bilbo had never let anyone touch, no matter how generous he was with all of his other flowers.

"Oh, shut up," Pippin growled, turning away.

"We should be leaving now, anyway," Frodo said, letting Clara and Sam out of the door in front of him. "It looks like Gandalf won't be making it."

"He's probably already at the house at Crickhollow, leaning in front of the fire and smoking a pipe. I envy him," Pippin sighed, looking at the road curving away down Bagshot Row, lost to view as it curved around a hill. "This is going to be way too much walking."

"Well, we could all use a walk," Frodo grinned. "We're hobbits - we do entirely too much eating and nearly not enough walking. This will be good for us."

He held out his arm to Clara and she took it, smirking at Pippin, who stuck out his tongue at her. Sam rolled his eyes and followed, forcing Pippin to either walk with him or stay at the back of the line, the latter being which Pippin chose for the moment.

It wasn't long until they left Hobbiton behind. At the last hill, Pippin had turned around and waved wildly.

"So long, Hobbiton!" he cried out loud.

Frodo rolled his eyes, but Clara could see the sadness in them. She didn't say anything, just squeezed his hand a little tighter. Frodo look over at her and gave a little smile.

They were in the Eastfarthing when Frodo decided that it was time for them to settle down for the night. (Pippin had been complaining about his aching legs for at least an hour.) Sam knew of a spot out of the wind, so they let him lead the way. They rounded a hill and Sam found his spot - a mossy bank underneath some trees. Sam said that there was a stream on the side of the next hill - Clara was pretty sure she could hear the sound of water.

"Sounds good to me," Frodo said, letting his pack fall to the ground. "I am sure that I will sleep for hours and hours - at least that's what my legs are telling me."

Frodo did sleep for hours - they all did - but it took quite a while for them to fall asleep at first, except for Pippin, who fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the moss. Sam kept tossing and turning, mumbling about a root that was sticking in his back. Frodo didn't complain, but he took even longer to fall asleep than Sam did.

Clara stayed awake - she had been exhausted from all the walking, having run out of practice of running with the Doctor in her year in the Shire, but her weariness disappeared as soon as she had laid down. So she turned her head to her side and watched Frodo peacefully sleeping, his chest slowly rising and falling in the decreased rate of breathing that sleep brought. A small smile crept up her lips.

The last time she had seen Frodo sleeping was when she had gone to bed late because she had wanted to finish baking an apple pie for breakfast the next morning. After setting away her pie, with a cloth over it to keep any insects or animals out, she had tiptoed to her room, not wanting to wake Frodo. As she passed his slightly open door, Clara had suddenly felt the urge to stop and look in on him. For some reason, it seemed like a forbidden thing to do - like Belle going to the East Wing and reaching out for the Beast's rose. So forbidden, in fact, that she had almost continued walking down the hall to her own room. But curiosity won out, and she pushed the door a little and looked in.

Frodo was sleeping as peacefully as he did now. That time, he had been in bed, a sheet over him as he lay on his back. Now he lay in the same position on the mossy ground, his face just as peaceful as it had been then, his chest rising, pausing, and then falling just like as it had done then.

Clara turned to lie on her back, the peaceful picture having calmed her to the point where she felt like she could perhaps sleep. As her eyes began to droop closed, she saw a fox in the trees a few feet ahead. It looked at her with a curious, almost intelligent look on his face. She could almost imagine the creature thinking, H_obbits! Sleeping out of doors! Now that is a queer incident. What is happening to the world?_

That was her last thought as she fell into a deep sleep with no dreams, or at least none that she could remember the next morning.

~ D / L ~

The next morning, the hobbits had a quick breakfast and left their little camp. Frodo insisted that they needed to keep a good time, but Pippin slowed them down by insisting back with many excuses and complaints that it wasn't _good for you _to walk so fast. They needed to take more breaks. He couldn't go for so long. He was exhausted. Clara must be exhausted, too. _Right, Clara?_

Clara just gave him an amused look.

"Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I'm as weak as you, Pippin," she grinned.

That shut Pippin up for a while.

They met no Black Riders, which encouraged Clara so much that Pippin and Sam were able to influence her to sing along with them. They had tried yesterday, but Clara had felt shy to show off her voice, which wasn't bad, but wasn't great, either. When Pippin asked Frodo, _Don't you want to hear your girlfriend sing,_Frodo had only replied, _Don't push Clara if she doesn't want to_. But Clara joined in with the three others in a rousing chorus of Bilbo's _The Road goes ever on and on, down from the Door where it began... _She even taught the others a few songs from Earth. Sam particularly liked "Wild Mountain Thyme," but Pippin liked something a little more energetic. Clara was more one for folk rather than the songs her friends had liked back home, so Pippin had to live with her memory of lyrics of Mumford &amp; Sons and The Lumineers and The Corrs.

But by late afternoon, even Pippin was tired of singing. The sun was high in the sky and was beating down upon them.

"I think we should find some shade, Mr. Frodo," Sam said cautiously. "I know you want to get to Crickhollow as soon as possible, but we're not making much progress in this heat, and it wouldn't do if one of us were to get sunstroke." He glanced at Clara.

Usually, Clara might have rolled her eyes at Sam and told him that she was perfectly fine... but she had to admit that she wasn't feeling very well. Her body felt weak from thirst, her lips were chapped, and she was beginning to feel a slight buzzing in the back of her subconscious. She had unconsciously began to lean a little on Frodo.

Frodo glanced at Clara, his eyes concerned.

"I think we could all do with a little shade," he said.

"Where are we going to find shade?" Pippin blurted out unfeelingly. "It's been only fields for miles. I don't think we've seen any trees since we left that shady area this morning."

"We'll find somewhere," Frodo said, clenching his jaw and putting his arm around Clara. "There's got to be somewhere."

Sam and Pippin scouted ahead, Frodo walking at a much slower pace with Clara.

"Do you want to take a resting break?" Frodo asked softly in her ear.

"No, I'm fine," Clara mumbled, her eyes almost completely closed. "We need to keep going."

Frodo looked over at her and realized how far gone she was.

"No, you're not fine," he said tersely. "You can't go on anymore like this."

Clara subconsciously felt Frodo stopping, leaning down, and scooping her up in his arms, bridal-fashion. Or was it unconsciously? She could feel herself slipping away more and more.

_Clara!_

She heard Frodo's voice reaching her as if she were underwater and he was standing over her, the water muffling the sound and blocking her ears. She was drowning, falling farther and farther, Frodo's voice becoming more and more faint.

_Clara, hold on._

_Sam's found some trees._

_We're almost there._

_Clara?_

_Clara, can you hear me?_

_Clara?_

"Clara!"

Clara sat up, gasping. She was no longer in the Shire - she was back in that bed... _her bedroom_, she remembered, in the TARDIS. A man in armour sat in a chair at the end of her bed, a different man than she had remembered seeing before. This one had long blonde hair, stern eyebrows even in his concern, and gave her a familiar vibe, like deja-vu.

"No, no, no... take me back! Take me back!" Clara demanded. She clutched the blankets to herself, as if covering herself would send her back to her dream.

Was it a dream? Or was it reality? Oh God, please let it be reality. Let this be the dream. Let the TARDIS be a dream... even if the Doctor was here, she wanted it to be a dream. And yet the Doctor wasn't here - it was some man dressed in a medieval-style fashion. So it must be a dream. Her mind was combining Middle Earth and the TARDIS together, taking two memories and melding them in her mind to make her dream more pleasant.

And yet, the dream didn't make her happy. It just made her want to go back.

"Lady Clara..." The man reached forward. "You are awake! The Doctor will be overjoyed when he comes back."

"No no no no... don't touch me!" Clara shied away, trying to get as far as away as she could, her knees drawing up to her chest.

If he touched her... if she could feel his touch... then that would mean she was awake, wasn't it? And that Frodo and the Shire were the dream.

The blonde man only smiled and gently reached out... and grasped her wrist.

It felt real.

Terribly, horribly real. 

"No..." Clara whispered, her eyes shocked and horrified. "No, it can't be... This is the dream. This _must be _the dream."

The blonde man shook his head. "No, Lady Clara." He shook his head and spoke gently. "This is real. The TARDIS is real. The Doctor would give you a much more reassuring and... logical explanation, I'm sure, but he isn't here at the moment. He is Rohan right now, speaking with my sister... Eowyn. My name is Eomer."


	19. Chapter 19: We Will Find You

_I'm sorry that it's been so long since I've updated this story. School got busy. I was going through a lot of stuff the last couple of months - life was pretty difficult. But hopefully I'm here now to work on this story until the end._

~ D / L ~

The Doctor followed Gathorn down a hallway just as dusky and dreary as the throne room had been. After passing several doors, he stopped and knocked on one.

"Lady Eowyn? There is a man who seeks audience with you."

"I don't care," came a muffled feminine voice. "Tell him I do not wish to see him."

Gathorn looked at the Doctor and shrugged. "She's a lady who knows her own mind. Sorry."

"May I try?" the Doctor asked. His heart rate had picked up just a little. He had promised Eomer that he would visit his sister and warn her against Grima.

"If you wish," Gathorn agreed.

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Lady Eowyn?" he called. "I have news of your brother."

The door flew open and a blonde woman dressed in a white dress stood in the doorway, hands on her hips.

"Come in," she said, reluctantly.

So the Doctor did. When he realized that Eowyn wasn't following him into the room, he turned back to see Gathorn walking forward.

"We do not require your company, Gathorn," Eowyn said firmly. "Thank you all the same."

Gathorn hesitated but then bowed. "As you wish, my lady."

Eowyn watched him walk down the hallway before closing the door firmly shut behind him. Then she turned to face the Doctor, arms folded.

"You say you have news of my brother," she declared. "What is this news? Speak quickly, for I fear we shall soon have spies of Grima Wormtongue listening at the door."

"Yes, umm, well." The Doctor hesitated. "I'm supposed to be a lord who is searching for your brother's head after he burned several villages. Which he didn't," he added quickly when he saw a fire arising in the woman's eyes. "Your brother is perfectly fine. He's in my Tardis right now - which a space ship."

Damn, he was doing this all wrong.

"Sorry, let me try again," he started. "Eomer is safe. We are searching for a friend of mine who has gone missing. But he wanted me to come and let you know to be wary of Grima Wormtongue."

Eowyn rolled her eyes. "I think I know that already," she huffed impatiently. "Did my jackass of a brother say anything of value?"

The Doctor had to admit, he was impressed. This woman certainly had a personality of her own.

"Yes," he replied. "While Eomer and I try to locate my friend, we will also be searching for something that will cure King Theoden. We will come back as soon as we can. But Eomer thinks that if you talk to the king and spend time with him... that could help stop him from getting worse."

Eowyn's expression had gone from exasperation to one of interest to one of determination within the span of the Doctor's little speech. When he finished speaking, she nodded.

"I can do that," she agreed.

Suddenly, the woman stiffened and cocked her head, as if she were listening for something. When the Doctor opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, she quickly put up a hand to stop him. The Doctor shut his mouth, feeling a little bit flustered.

"Will you come back and let me know of your progress in your search for my brother, Doctor?" Eowyn suddenly asked, a little too loudly.

The Doctor was confused. "The search... for your brother?"

"Yes," Eowyn said, frustration in her eyes. "_As you told my uncle?_"

"Oh, _that_ search!" the Doctor suddenly realized where Eowyn was going with this. "Yes. Yes, of course my lady. I will come back as soon as I can."

Eowyn smiled. She took a step forward. And then another. "Good," she said. "For only when you come back with my brother's head, my love, can we be together."

"Wait, _what_?" the Doctor squeaked - except that the _what _was muffled by Eowyn's lips.

Her lips were soft. Very soft. Softer, in fact, than River's. The Doctor couldn't help but feel a trite ashamed at that thought - not that he was kissing someone other than his wife for he had, on multiple occasions (and so had she), but that someone could kiss better than River.

No, not better. Different. But that difference was nice. Kisses with River were passionate. Eowyn's kisses were soft and close-mouthed, but they made the Doctor's heart go flippety-flop just the same.

She drew away after a moment and then whispered in his ear, "This will fool Grima."

Oh.

The Doctor couldn't help but feel disappointed. And here he had thought that Eowyn was interested in him. Well, that was alright.

Then why did his chest ache when she stepped back from him, looking as calm as if nothing had happened?

~ D / L ~

Clara couldn't help but let her eyes well up with tears, even in front of this strange man.

"This isn't possible," she said, angrily, shaking off Eomer's hand from her wrist. "I was with Frodo and Sam and Pippin. We were walking towards Crickhollow to meet Gandalf. Why am I back in the Tardis?"

Eomer stiffened at her mention of Gandalf.

"Gandalf Stormcrow?" he asked, a little harshly. "What do you know of the wizard?"

Clara paused, suddenly realizing what he had said.

"How do _you_ know Gandalf?" she asked hotly.

Then she remembered. Eomer. Wait. The information suddenly clicked. _Eomer_. Tolkien's Eomer _in the Tardis_.

Before the man could even speak, Clara spoke up again. "How are you in the Tardis? This is the Tardis, isn't it? Where's the Doctor?"

"I told you, Lady Clara," Eomer responded. "The Doctor is in Rohan at this moment, speaking with my sister. And..." A wave of confusion swept over his face for a brief moment. "Which question should I answer first? Well, I am in the Tardis because I was helping the Doctor to find your spirit and bring it back to your body. However, that seems to be no longer necessary. And I know Gandalf because he has visited my home on a few occasions. The last time was when he visited us to request the use of one of our horses. He took the best one." He looked more than slightly disgruntled at that thought.

"Wait..." Now Clara was the confused one. There were so many thoughts running around in her mind. So much information. So much that just seemed wrong.

"Gandalf came for Shadowfax? But that doesn't make any sense. At the part of the story I'm in, Gandalf is probably captured by Saruman right now. He has to die in Moria before he comes to you for help."

Eomer sat back and ran a hand over his face.

"The Doctor was right when he said that this was all quite confusing..." he murmured. He looked back at Clara and spoke more clearly. "How can Gandalf come for Shadowfax when he has died? He cannot come back from the dead, can he?"

"He does," Clara nods. "He's Gandalf the White then. You must be in a different time. You're ahead of me."

Her eyes opened wide as she remembered again.

"I have to get back," she said, panicked. "I have to get back to Frodo. I need to help him with his quest. I promised." She turned to Eomer. "Send me back. Please!"

~ D / L ~

Eowyn had to admit - this man was quite attractive. And he was looking at her in a way that made her wonder if he didn't feel something for her as well. This man... wait, she didn't even know his name.

She had been planning to walk away. There was no use getting one's heart broken. But she turned around anyway.

"What's your name?" she asked.

The man licked his lips nervously.

"The Doctor," he said, his voice raspy. It made little chills of delight up and down Eowyn's arms - to think that she had caused this man to be so uncertain.

"But I'm known as the Lord Doctor to your uncle the king and Grima," he added after clearing his throat. He bit his lip and looked at Eowyn with an expression of... _awe_?

Oh, fiddlesticks. She was a goner.

"Well, Lord Doctor," Eowyn stated, confidently taking a stride towards him again and putting a hand to the side of his face. The Doctor leaned into her touch. The way he melted pulled at her heart. Enough to let her continue.

"I think you should probably go back to your quest so that you can come back to me."

She leaned in and kissed him again. The Doctor kissed differently than she thought a man who had just begun courting a lady would do. His lips pulled at hers and she found herself pulling back.

"That sounds like a good idea," the Doctor murmured against her lips.

Yup. She was a goner.

~ D / L ~

The look in Clara's eyes was so desperate, so sad, so hopeful, that Eomer couldn't say no, even though it felt a little bit like a betrayal to the Doctor.

"What would you have me do?" he asked. "How can I send you back?"

"Put me to sleep," Clara commanded. Her eyes were wild and almost feverish. "Render me unconscious. Please - be quick."

Eomer swallowed. The code of a gentleman meant that he had sworn never to hit a woman.

"Are you sure? The Doctor won't be happy."

"I don't care." Clara shook her head. _"Just send me back."_

Eomer couldn't help but shiver at the tone of her voice.

"Alright," he decided. "But do realize, Lady Clara... the Doctor and I will never stop searching for your spirit. We will bring you back."

"Fine," Clara replied. Her face was flushed and her eyes were too bright. Eomer wondered whether it were the girl's distress or an effect of her spirit coming to her body in the wrong way. Lady Galadriel must have known what she was talking about when she said that Clara's spirit would have to be fused back to her body in a certain way.

"Just give me enough time to help Frodo. Please," she begged.

Eomer had no idea who Frodo was. He also had no idea how he would know when Clara's set time would be finished. But her eyes were so desperate that he nodded.

"Alright," he agreed.

Clara's face was still flushed, but she looked more peaceful.

"Then do it," she replied.

Eomer raised his fist. He cursed himself. And then swung forward.

As soon as Clara's head touched the pillow, the colour of her face returned to normal and she looked as calm as she had been when Eomer first saw her.


End file.
